


red and gold

by gryffindor_gal



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Canon Compliant, Developing Relationship, Draco Malfoy as a Dad, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Harry Potter Next Generation, Harry Potter is a Good Parent, Hogwarts, Multi, Mystery, Romance, This relationship was always going to happen, Top Harry Potter, Weasley Family
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-10-05
Packaged: 2019-04-29 02:09:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 73,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14462727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gryffindor_gal/pseuds/gryffindor_gal
Summary: When Scorpius Malfoy finally agrees to be 'civil' to the most annoying girl in his life, he has no idea what he's got himself into. Surely things were easier when they just... hated each other?Coupled with trying to sort out Al's love life and attempting to help James stay out of trouble, sixth year is turning out a lot more eventful than he'd thought.





	1. A Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> INTRODUCTION  
> Meet the characters:  
> Scorp - the hero of the story. He's pretty chill, best mates with Al, and in sixth year along with the rest.  
> Al - the best type of sidekick. His love life is pretty shitty, but aside from that he's got it all going for him.  
> Rose - slightly crazy, super Type-A personality, and always independent and brave. Cousins with Al, Fred, and Dom.  
> Dom - she's gorgeous, and says exactly what she's thinking. Don't mess with her.  
> Fred - he's the joker. (What else?) maybe a little too caught up on his looks, but who's perfect?  
> Dax - the typical guy mate. Laid-back, shares a dorm with Fred, always in on the joke.  
> Thea - she's the sensible one. Calm, kind, always knows the right thing to say, etc.  
> Claudette - French It-girl. Boldy confident, a soft spot for Scorp, and a strong hatred for all things Hogwarts.  
> Alec & Victor - absolute pricks. The end.  
> James - we all know who he is. And he's holding a secret that's causing everything to come crashing down.
> 
> So this story has ended up a lot longer than it was meant to be, but we're carrying on anyway. It originally came from the idea I wanted to do a Scorpius/Rose one, but from the guy's POV instead. It's my first fanfic, so give it a chance :) Hope you like it! (it's also on harrypotterfanfiction.com)

I can hear Albus snoring in the bed next to me, and it’s this racket that wakes me – I lean out of bed and check the little clock on the windowsill, then groan: 5:30. Just what I need, today of all flipping days. It’s not like I won’t be getting much sleep tonight, or like I’ll be demanded my full attention all day – no of course not.

This had better be a joke. Even ignoring today’s events, school holidays are a time for lie-ins, not for getting up earlier than I bloody would at Hogwarts. I roll over and pull the duvet over my head, trying to drown out his noise. Downsides of staying at the Burrow, huh. Al is gonna get one hell of a kick for this tomorrow, no kidding.

The actual morning comes far quicker than I’d have thought, considering I haven’t had one wink of sleep since 5:30. Al is still snoring. I whip my wand from the bedside table and point it threateningly at his head, the fluffy tufts of black poking out from the duvet – what’s better, an ageing spell or one to turn his hair green?

Just as I settle on the hair one, Al jumps awake and sits bolt upright in the bed. (I’m secretly quite glad - I’m only 16 so I shouldn’t be using magic - I _had_ reasoned there’s too many witches and wizards here for them to notice, but I wouldn’t want to get expelled from school or anything.) He blinks blearily, and yawns, his mouth open wide.

“Mum?!”

“No you idiot, it’s me,” I frown at him, I can tell I’m already grouchy from being woken this early. It probably doesn’t help that I’m sleeping on a mattress on the floor of his mum’s old room, either.

“What’s with you?” He looks at me, his still green thick eyes with sleep. I roll my own heavily.

“Only that someone kept me up half the night with their snoring!” I growl.

“Merlin Scorpius! I knew you’d sleep in - I just wanted to set you a personal alarm,” He smirks at me, and I roll my eyes again. He reaches for his glasses from the windowsill, and flicks the little starry lamp on. The soft light floods the room and I squint whilst my eyes adjust.

“What time’s the memorial start?” I yawn, looking longingly back at my plump pillow.

“Kick off’s at 12:30, then speeches, then the banquet, then celebratory ball, then after-party,” Al reels off, looking more awake with his glasses on, “so all in all it’s a 12 hour do really…”

We look at each other and laugh, almost sheepishly – the clock reads 10:25 and there’s bound to be a Potter/Weasley woman shouting to us at any minute. Sure enough, a distinctly familiar voice travels up the stairs, from where, I’m guessing, most of the relatives are bustling round the kitchen.

“BOYS! AND I MEAN ALL OF YOU – ALBUS, JAMES, FRED, HUGO, SCORPIUS! GET YOUR ARSES DOWN HERE THIS INSTANT OR I SWEAR TO MERLIN I’LL JINX YOU ALL! WE HAVE ONE HOUR!!”

“That your Mum?” I look at Al. He grimaces.

“Yep.”

 

 ****

2 hours later, and we’ve all safely made it to Hogwarts. Of course, that’s where the memorial service is being held – which is fitting, seen as it’s where the Battle happened. The anniversary should have been in May, but it was postponed till a new Minister of Magic was appointed.

Unlike a normal school day, the tables are horizontal in the Great Hall, and the floor has been charmed to tilt upwards towards the back, as a result, all the chairs face forwards, and everyone at each table can see the speakers.

Surprisingly, everyone is calm and looks immaculate. Even Al and I have scrubbed up nicely, in clean black dressrobes trimmed with the green Slytherin emblems, white shirts and black trousers. Even our hair is washed and combed back. (Well, maybe it’s not that surprising – I do like Ginny, but she really scares the pants off me, and that’s the truth.)

Speaking of scary women, the first speaker is McGonagall, our Head. She talks about the people we lost in the war and how much they contributed to the defeat of Voldemort. We all raise a toast to Dumbledore especially. Then it’s Hermione Weasley, Al’s Aunt, who of course is Minister for Magic. Her talk is mostly about how far we’ve come and what life would be like now if it weren’t for the bravery of those in the war. Then to no-one’s surprise Harry Potter, Al’s Dad makes a very modest speech about how basically he did nothing and it was all thanks to his parents, family and friends. Sure. That guy’s too self-deprecating for his own good.

I almost doze off during the songs by the school choir; I sneak a glance at Al and he looks just as fed up as I feel. At least he got a full night’s sleep. We’ve got pride of place front row seats because basically all of Al’s family are war heroes or are related to war heroes. And of course I’m staying with them for this part of the holidays, like I often do.

At the end of the speeches, the food, as usual, appears magically on all the tables. There’s countless shining gold platters of everything you could wish for – warm rolls, soup, sausages, lamb, salmon, chicken legs, lasagne, vegetable stew, baked potatoes, roast potatoes, mash, chips. Wow, the house-elves have really outdone themselves this time. Starving, I reach for a scoop of roast potatoes, but someone’s hand pushes me out the way.

“Move over, Malfoy, these are for everyone, you know,” It’s Rose. I’m outraged at this – I haven’t even had any! “In fact, squidge up a bit, I’m avoiding Hunter Flint,” I frown, but direct our row to all move down a chair and then I do too, so there’s a space for her. She wedges herself in the new spare seat between me and James.

“Well it’s not like you’re easy to spot – there’s at least 20 redheads at this table,” I snap as I wriggle a little closer to Al.

“Oh shut up, you’re just jealous no one’s hit on-“

She breaks off mid-sentence and gasps, ducking her head and flicking a few red ringlets over her face. Al looks up knowingly, and spots the offending Flint.

“It’s alright cus, he’s going to speak to Ethel Crabbe – he’s not seen you, you can sit up now,” Al is fighting the urge not to laugh as he piles his plate with sausages. I start to fill my own, now Rose’s spoon has finally vacated the potatoes. James is sniggering on the other side of me.

“Wonder when you got so fanciable, Ginger?” It’s hard to smirk with your mouth full of a chicken drumstick, but James manages it. Rose doesn’t even dignify this with a response as she waves across the hall to Aria and Gregory Philips, who are walking to the back table. Lily, however, hears this from opposite him and her and Hugo exchange incredulous looks.

“You’re a fine one to talk, James,” Oh, how she sounds like her mother. “I heard that you had, what was it, Hugh? Oh – only eight girls ask you to be their date to this celebratory dance.” She pushes her long red hair back over her shoulder and stares her brother out. I like Lily. She’d make a cool guy if she wasn’t such a girl.

“What’s this about girls?” Ron leans over from the end of the table where he and the other Potter/Weasley adults are sat, looking interested.

“It better be nothing,” Hermione chimes in, “and I’m looking at you, Rosie. Don’t think we were born yesterday.” Her eyebrows are raised, but she’s half smiling. Ginny nods, but Harry and Ron make eye contact and smirk, sensibly keeping their heads lowered.

Al and I look at each other and grin. Neither of us have ever had girlfriends, but I’m sure sixth year is the perfect time to start. Bring on September.

 

****

This evening has dragged. And we’re not even at the after-party yet. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love a good do, but 12 hours? Bit much.

To be fair, the Great Hall has transformed into a ballroom seamlessly – the ceiling’s full of its usual enchanted stars, and everything else is a variation on the midnight blue sky and stars theme. There’s even enchanted silver petals rising and falling at the edges of the room. Anyway, I’m sick of watching overdressed middle-aged couples manoeuvre stiffly round the dancefloor. Celestina Warbeck is still singing on the stage at the front, and I think my ears are about to bleed. I haven’t even got Al to mess about with, seen as he’s been roped in to dance with his cousin Dom, in order to ‘set a good impression’: Ginny’s words, not mine. James and Lily are the same – while she’s partnered with Hugo, James has, surprise surprise, managed to bag himself a gorgeous seventh year, Serenity Twycross. Even now, she’s shaking out her long blonde hair and flashing perfect white teeth at something he just murmured in her ear.

Urgh. I don’t have a clue where Rose or Fred are either, the last of the Potter/Weasleys my age. Molly is ignored as her company doesn’t even bear thinking about; Lucy and Louis are babies in this world that is life. So now I’m sat alone, at an ivory coloured table filled with empty Butterbeer glasses and girls’ handbags. I lean back in my chair and stretch my legs out. I’m gonna be stuck stiff if this carries on.

“Hey, loner,” I look up to see Teddy, holding two glasses of Firewhiskey and looking slightly flushed from dancing. “Here,” he hands me one. “You look like you could do with that – no-one’ll notice.” He winks at me.

“Ah, thanks!" I grin. Nothing better than a sneaky bit of alcohol to cheer you up. "Where’s Victoire?” I ask, taking a sip of the burning liquid.

“Bathroom,” he rolls his eyes. “She takes forever though – it’s a girl thing. And my legs could do with a break anyway.” He plonks himself in the chair next to me, pushing his slightly sweaty hair back from his forehead.

“So what’s new with you then, Scorpius? Excited for sixth year? You should be – it’s the best one of them all, I’m telling you,” He tips his glass toward me. “And that’s when you’ll really reel those girls in Scorp, don’t you worry.”

I shake my head and laugh at this. “Don’t be so sure – Gregory Philips and Markus Creed are in my year, didn’t you know? I’ll only pull a girl when I look like that! And, I couldn’t flirt if I tried.”

“Nah, that’s where you’re wrong! I’ve seen girls checking you out already.”

I’m not sure if he’s saying this to make me feel better or if it’s the actual truth.

“Hmmm… Maybe I could do with being a Metamorphagus, you know, to look hot at will? Know any?” He laughs at this, and turns his hair blue on the spot just to prove my point.

“You wanna look in the mirror sometime Scorpius – you might be surprised,” He smirks at me, and I’m suddenly very jealous of Teddy Lupin. I still don’t believe him though.

“How’s it going at the Ministry?” I ask him, and we talk about his work for a little while.

“Hey, there’s Victoire." he says, spotting her heading over. "But owl me when you go back, you know, I can give you advice if you ever need it. Not that you will!”

He calls this last bit over his shoulder as he walks over to Victoire. I like Teddy, he’s definitely one of my favourites of Al’s cousins – but I’m pretty sure his girl insight leaves something to be desired.

I shake my head, again, and decide to take a walk too.

I start down the corridor off the Great Hall and don’t realise how hot I was till the cool air rushes over my face. I take a deep breath in and check my watch. 10:50. The after-party should be starting soon – not long till we can leave this place and I can get a full night’s sleep. I carry on down the corridor, no clue where I’m heading, just enjoying the cooler temperature.

Just as I’m thinking how chilled it is down here, I can suddenly hear voices talking in low, hushed undertones. Hung on the wall, there’s a large sewn picture of a field of sunflowers, with crows flying above it. And the sound seems like it’s coming from right behind it.

Gingerly, I stretch my hand towards the tapestry – I’m pretty cautious because there’s all sorts of crazy magic here – it could be anything. But just as I place my hand on it, the whole thing comes away from the wall and pools in a heap on the wooden floor. Behind it is a large cavity, just big enough for two people to sit without being on top of each other. Yet these two already are.

“Rose!? What in Merlin’s name is this!?” The words burst out of my mouth in shock. I don’t even think they’d noticed anything until I spoke – Rose only pulls away from Gregory Philips’ lips at the sound of my voice. For a second, they stare at me in utter disbelief, then Rose’s face blushes beetroot red, right to her hairline.

“Malfoy?! What the… GET OUT! What the hell do you think you’re doing, coming to spy on me!? HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN THERE?” She practically spits at me, her hands curled in fists. I can’t even think of a retort to this injustice.

“Wh- Wel- No! For Merlin’s sake, Weasley! – how are you so self-obsessed!? I was literally just WALKING, to cool down!”

Bloody hell, she’s touchy! Can’t she see it was a flipping accident? I’m sick of Rose and her uncalled-for outbursts, when will she learn everything’s not always someone else’s fault? I’m so angry with her, I can already tell I’m going to say something I shouldn’t.

“It’s not my fault you’ll curl yourself round any random guy just because you’re jealous you don’t get as much action as James!”

Shit. That was probably a low blow. Rose steps carefully out of the opening and towards me, literally shaking with rage. When she speaks, her voice is low and dangerous.

“Oh yeah? Who was it I heard complaining to Al that he’d never even so much had a girlfriend – that girls always went for the good-looking Gryffindors or the famous Potter relatives? NOT YOU? Well no, of course not – everyone knows Scorpius Malfoy is SUCH a womaniser! Just PISS OFF, Malfoy, and stop poking your big nose in everyone else’s relationships! GET YOUR BLOODY OWN!” She screams.

“Relationships? RELATIONSHIPS?!” I gesture wildly to Philips, “You’ve known him about two minutes!”

“Actually, he’s my boyfriend, you prick!” she spits back angrily.

“Yeah, since today, Malfoy, actually, so why don’t you pipe down?” Philips adds in from sat in the cavity.

Rose shoots him a nasty glare, as if to say that’s not helping. She stands a few centimetres from me, shooting daggers, her arms folded. Under her breath, she mutters something about ‘typical Slytherins’ and ‘just go crawling back to Al, where you belong’. She looks right in my eyes and stares me out. I give her one last glare and turn on my heels. That girl is so bloody infuriating!

I get back to the hall a lot faster than the first time. Probably the anger fuelling my speed. Pushing all thoughts of a certain pissy redhead out of my mind, I reach up and grab the giant brass handle, but it won’t open. The door to the Great Hall is sealed. Not budging. Then I remember – the after party. All the responsible adults will have left now, the hall will be magically cleaning itself, and everyone under 30 will be partying madly – where? Could it be in the Room of Requirement? That’s worth a shot I guess, as it’s where most parties are held when we’re at school. Rose might know, but of course I won’t be speaking to her this side of the millennium.

On this note, I start to head there, my head still full of my latest confrontation with Rose-'I’m so perfect'-Weasley. I’ve known Rose for five years, and I should be used to her annoying traits by now – but unlike everyone else I know, she gets under my skin like nothing else. She’s so self-centred and stubborn it’s unreal. I mean, we get on well often too: me, Al, Rose, Dom, James and Fred are always lumped together at holidays and there’s always tons of laughs. But this, this time, she’s just taken it too far. For Merlin’s sake - I don’t even know who’d want to date her! She’s so bloody high-maintenance.

I was right about the Room of Requirement. You can hear the music blaring even from outside – it’s ‘Cloaks Off’ by Crystal Balls. The party’s already in full swing by the time I get in, and I spot Al straight away, stood with Fred and James. The Room’s grown an extra floor to accommodate us all, and it comes in the form of a mezzanine, with a little balcony rimming three of the walls. There’s still blue and silver decorations everywhere, but someone’s magically amplified a radio so we can listen to – well, better music than Celestina Warbeck, at least. There’s about fifty people here, mostly tipsy, dancing, singing and talking drunk rubbish. I head over to James, Al and Fred, stood near to the refreshments table.

“You look like your dog’s just died, Scorpy! You need to lighten up!” This is Freddie, swinging his cup full of drink near my head. I duck, narrowly avoiding Gigglewater shots in my hair.

“What is it?” Al, slightly less tipsy, is more concerned.

“Your bloody cousin!” I mutter, and take a drink from James.

“A pain, isn’t she?” Al agrees. I didn’t even need to explain, he knows about Rose and I so well.

“Well this is a party, Scorpius, so come on, let’s have some fun! Forget about everyone’s favourite feisty redhead and drink up! That’s my man!” James is already drunk, but I decide to listen and down the drink in one. Let’s do this…

Al has drunk an awful lot of alcohol in an awfully short amount of time. He’s sat next to me on the plush sofa, and I can smell the clear reek of it waving off him.

“Scooorrpiuuss?”

“Mm?”

“You think everyone from school is here?”

“Well, most of the older ones, yeahh, no kids of ex-Death Eaters though,”

“But you’re here, Scorpy-Oh!”

“Is there a point to this?”

“I want… Well I don’t… Do you know? Probably not! Well she’s my DREAM GIRL Sssscorpius, and it’s gonna come true – you better believe it!”

I sigh at him. I’m drunk too – but compared to Al I feel as sober as McGonagall on a Monday morning. His eyes are already starting to close, and I pick up his feet and swivel him horizontally on the sofa, putting a pillow behind his head. Give him five minutes and he’ll be gone.

“Right little mother, aren’t you?”

“Thea?”

“Oi Scorp, I’m here too!”

“Sorry, Dom, hello to the both of you - you enjoying the party?"

Shiny blonde hair abruptly turns round to reveal Dom has arrived, along with the third member of her and Rose’s little gang, Thea Carleston. They look at each other and begin to giggle like teenagers. Bemused, I frown at them both, then, you know what - sod it - I pass them two tumblers of Firewhiskey.

“Cheers! Let’s start off sixth year like we mean to go on!” We try and fail to clink our glasses and slop the drinks a little onto the floor. Thea is straightening her thick auburn fringe with her free hand, before she frowns at me when what I’ve said sinks in.

“Scorp, it is only July, you do know that, right!?”

“Thea, liven up a little! September’s almost here, I can start afresh now if I want to!”

“Yeah, leave the boy alone, Thea! Let’s all do another shot!” Dom bursts out.

“Dom!”

“Scorp?!”

“Your hair!”

“Oh, do you like it? I got it cut in the holidays,” she twirls round, shaking her head to accentuate the newly shoulder-length ice blonde locks. “I was sick of looking like a fucking princess all the time!” she grins at me.

“You mean, exactly like your mum and Victoire?” I tease, but her pin straight hair does actually look very elegant and eye-catching, just brushing her shoulders.

“Oh shut it, Sporcius, I mean, Scorpius – we know you had a fight with our cousin! My cousin,” Dom points a finger at me accusingly. Thea takes a shaky step closer to Dom and looks me straight in the face.

“She was snogging Gregory Philips too! You interrupted!”

Dom looks at Thea. “Isn’t he hot?” They giggle again. Well. Didn’t take long for that news to spread then.

“Actually, you should tell your stupid cousin to wait till she’s in private before she starts her make-out sessions!” I retort.

“Soo, a secret cubby-hole doesn’t count as private then?”

“No,” I snap, “She was right near to the Hall and talking too loudly with Philips for me to not notice.”

The girls exchange looks and then seem to leave it there, as Thea just shrugs and Dom laughs at me again. High chance they’ve just ignored everything I said and will take Rose’s side. Or maybe, they’re so drunk the whole thing will be forgotten tomorrow? As I’m deciding over this, I feel a sharp tug on my arm.

“Lil? What’s up?” (I try my best to keep the slur out of my voice.) She doesn’t seem fazed - I swear that girl’s been conditioned, living with Al and James all her life.

“Well, Mum said we had to be out of here by one. Thought I’d let you know that it’s now five to, and the Portkey’s leaving in three. So we’d better get Al up, I guess.” She looks towards his lifeless form slumped on the sofa.

“Blimey, that’s gone quick… Okay, help me move him then, yeah?”

On the count of three, all four of us carry/drag Al to where the Portkey is – it’s on one of the little coffee tables, in the form of an old Crystal Balls record. Around us, the party’s still raging, but Al’s out cold. Oh well, we’ll all be straight to sleep when we get back anyway. I know _I_ need it.

The record starts to shiver and glow, and I grab on quickly. Wow, I can’t wait to get to bed.


	2. Back to the Action

Oh Merlin. Get me back to Hogwarts is all I’ll say. Not even kidding – my parents (for some reason) were jealous Al got me for the first week and they got me for the last ones, so they decided to go all out. I’m not even kidding. Like, I love them, don’t get me wrong, but sometimes they just parent a bit toooo much. In four weeks, we’ve been to see my grandparents in America, away for a week in the south of France for some sun, to Hogsmeade for shopping, we even walked up a mountain somewhere, had countless meals out, we’ve seen two Quidditch matches, and now finally we’re at King’s Cross. And my mum’s crying. As per. You’d thing I’m going to bloody Africa. 

“Promise you’ll write?”

“Of course – did I forget last year? No,” I pat her arm, a little awkwardly. You’d think we’d both be used to this by now. Behind me, the train toots and our time is ticking. I pull my old leather trunk off the luggage trolley, tip it up ready to be rolled, and carefully balance Cosmo, my tawny owl in her cage, on the top. 

“We’re going to miss you so much, Scorpius! Remember to concentrate hard on your studies… Make good choices, you and Al stay out of trouble, just because you’re 17 this year, no need to get all… You know, reckless, or anything.” 

“Yes Mum, I won’t, don’t worry,” She gives me a tight squeeze and perches on tiptoe to peck the top of my head. Her dark hair tickles my face and there’s a faint whiff of lavender before she pulls away.

“Love you,” she smiles.

“Goodbye Scorpius, have a good term, don’t do anything I wouldn’t.” Dad’s hug is much less tight, we barely touch and he steps back to shake my hand. He gives me a fleeting smile, his grey eyes staying trained on my face as I get ready to leave Platform 9 and ¾. 

“Love you both! See you in three months!” I grab my trunk and Cosmo, and haul them on board. I give them both a last wave, and for a fleeting moment they look so forlorn, huddled together on the platform, Dad’s arm around Mum, their blonde and dark heads together, separated from all the other bustling families. 

Then the train starts to pull away, their faces fade to a coloured blur, and I turn, ready to look for Al. Usually I’ve seen him by now. Although, if I just look for a cluster of red hair, odds on he’ll be there. There we go – I slide open the first compartment door at the sight of the back of a ginger head and some Gryffindor uniform.

Shit. DAMN I do make a habit of this. I freeze; literally I think even Cosmo’s not moving. There’s no way out either, now. I brace myself as the head stops tonguing her man, and turns round to reveal the face of none other than Rose Weasley. Even Philips looks scared of his girlfriend now, and leans back on the seat, pushing her lipgloss off his mouth.

“What the HELL, Malfoy? Do you not have ANY brain cells in that FAT head of yours?! Is this supposed to be a joke!? Because I’ve about had it with you and your -” She waves her hand violently, up and down at me. 

“Woah, why don’t you just calm down?! Merlin, I only came in the wrong compartment.” 

“CALM DOWN!? Don’t you tell me what to do you little-“

“Oh just PISS OFF Weasley, this was an ACCIDENT – the world doesn’t revolve around you in case you hadn’t noticed!” I yell.

I should’ve known this was a mistake, as she stands up slowly from the red leather seat and fixes me with a stare that could kill – there’s about a head’s difference, but that’s never mattered less.

“Well, I think someone should tell YOU that, seen as all you seem to do is stalk me and then scream in my face like it’s my fault! I think it was PRETTY obvious we were occupying this compartment!”

“Merlin, Weasley, do you have to be such a bitch ALL the time?” I roll my eyes at her.

That’s it. I’m going to die. She’s pulled out her wand and there’s no way in Albus Dumbledore’s name I’ll ever win a duel against Rose Weasley.

“Scorpius? Rose!? What’re you doing – Merlin, put that wand away!” Oh thank Hippogriffs, it’s Al. 

“So you’re ordering me around now too, little cus?” Rose raises her wand so it’s level with my chin. 

“Woah, woahh, no I only meant – okay, please Rose, don’t curse him into oblivion!... And, like, I’m not exactly little, we’re the same age, you’re just born-“Al breaks off quickly at the look she gives him. 

Rose takes a deep breath and huffs it out, still glaring at me, as Al takes my arm and pulls me, trunk and all, back out of the compartment. It turns out, the rest of them are sat only two compartments down, and so everyone heard the whole thing.

I walk in to the ‘right’ compartment kinda sheepishly. Like, almost everyone in here is related to Rose so they’ve got a right to take her side, I guess. However, Fred just bursts out laughing as soon as he sees us, and Dom is smirking too. 

“Oh, shut up.” I can feel the corners of my mouth twitching. I dump my trunk in the overhead compartment, and tuck Cosmo’s cage next to the door. Then I take a seat next to Dom, and wait for the inquisition to begin.

“Well that girl is always right about everything – someone has to take her down a peg or two.”

“Fred, it’s hardly funny – you know we’re gonna be stuck in between two icebergs all the time now.” Our other friend Dax, adds in, grinning at me.

“You didn’t break them up, did you Scorp?” Thea’s definitely the concerned girlfriend, alright. 

“Of course not, Philips is smitten with our Rose.” Dom rolls her eyes. 

“Well, I don’t see what’s funny.” We all turn to look at Al, whose eyes are hard, and fixed directly on me.

“Al? What’s up, mate? Spit it out.” Like his dad, Al doesn’t do well when he bottles up his anger.

“You’re always fighting with Rose, and I’m just sick of it, that’s what. No, don’t interrupt to tell me it’s her fault. I know she can be annoying, but she’s my cousin and we all manage fine with her! It’s not just the two of you in your petty arguments, it’s all of us – you’re both in the group, and you could at least make an effort, and not just when we’re doing something fun! Don’t gimme that look, Scorp – I mean it – will you just try, with Rose? I just want things to be chill, with everyone, this year.” 

He looks round at all of us. I think he’s probably just as surprised as we are – Al isn’t one for big speeches or telling people what to do, he’s usually the quiet peacemaker. So I think this is what stops me from retorting that he ‘go tell his own perfect cousin the same thing and see what she makes of it’. Instead I sit back, cross my legs, and try to keep my voice from showing my annoyance.

"Sure," I say. "I'll be... civil with her, if she'll do the same with me."

Well, it's true - that is the last argument I’ll have with Rose; for the foreseeable anyway. Al didn't say I had to speak to her. 

For a while after, I let the conversation of the others wash over me – Al and I are lucky enough to know some of the loudest students at Hogwarts: a mix of Potter/Weasley genes and the typical Gryffindor attitude makes this lot a feisty bunch, not one that needs small talk to hold a conversation. Their laughter rises like bubbles, and I drink it in. It feels good to be back. Outside the window, the landscape blurs by, turning slowly from grey buildings to dark forests as the train takes us further away from Muggle society. 

“Oi, Scorpius, what do you say?” Dax kicks my shin with his foot, and nods at me, his eyes questioning.

Dom laughs, a sharp bark. “Wasn’t even listening, were ya?” She counters.

“Anyway,” Thea cuts in neatly, “What we’re asking is, have you heard of Lyla Magnotis?” Five pairs of eyes look at me expectantly.

“No…” I say slowly, thinking, “Why, who is she?” At my words, I notice Al’s cheeks grow unusually rosy, and his eyes dart nervously round the compartment, looking at everything but not meeting my own.

“Ah,” Realisation dawns, and I struggle to keep the amusement out of my voice, “This doesn’t happen to be, as I remember you called her, the ‘DREAM GIRL’, does it, Albus Potter?” 

Again, he avoids eye contact with me, and taps his foot repeatedly on the wooden floor of the train. 

 

“Oh for Merlin’s sake yes, Scorpius, that would be her,” He starts to smile sheepishly, ”But I was VERY drunk at that time, really I just think she’s, you know, rather pretty-looking.”

There’s a number of laughs and outcries at this – but then a distraction comes in the form of Thea, who glances out the window and declares we’re almost at our destination. The last few minutes feel equally as long as the whole journey as we look hungrily at the castle, watching its misty form grow clearer. 

It suddenly feels like the middle of winter when we all finally climb out of the Express. Like the true gentleman I am, I let Thea and Dom step out ahead of me, and when I’m out, I realise there’s heavy rain lashing down onto the crowds, and, as it’s already gone seven o’clock, the sky is an angry navy.

I hurry through the pools of water, tilting my head down in an attempt to avoid the rain, and hop in after Al in one of the Thestral-driven carriages. Of course, they have roofs, so thank Merlin we’re sheltered from the storm. I may pretend otherwise, but I really do hate getting my hair wet.

“Blimey, I’d hate to be a firstie in this.” Dax visibly shudders at the repulsive thought, pulling his cloak tighter round him. It doesn’t make much difference anyway – we’re all huddled together in the carriage and there’s barely enough room to breathe, let alone feel the cold. 

We all look at Hagrid, apart from Al, of course, who looks at his feet. Hagrid’s as yet unfazed by the weather, and is directing the little boats across the tumultuous black lake. The first years sit shivering three to a boat, the hoods on their cloaks up, soaked by the downpour. 

“I feel cold just watching.” Thea adds, and turns away. Finally the carriage draws to a halt, and we all pile out, sprinting to the castle entrance, as to maximise our dryness. 

As we walk into the Great Hall, the warmth envelops us – its hundreds of candles a contrast to the darkness from outside. Al and I make our way to the Slytherin table, and the other four head across to Gryffindor.

“Get me some food,” Al mutters, “I hope McGonagall’s speech is snappy,”

“And the Sorting,” I remind him. “We should have bought more food on the train.”

“Good to know you two only think with your stomachs.” A snooty voice chips in. Dear Merlin. It’s Molly making an appearance. 

“I, for one, am rather looking forward to the speech and the Sorting. They’re both informative and entertaining, for your information,” She carries on. Al and I stifle laughs, and she stalks off to Hufflepuff, her nose in the air.

“Blimey, she talks like she’s writing a ‘Come to Hogwarts’ brochure,” I roll my eyes at Al. 

“You’d think we’d never been to a start of term feast before, honestly,” Al shakes his head as we climb onto the benches. 

Much to our delight, the Sorting is quick, McGonagall’s speech is even quicker, and the food barely touches the gold platters before it’s on our own plates. 

“Mm, Yorkshire puddings,” I take two, and fill them up with gravy. Turning slightly on the bench, I look to pass the gravy boat to Al, but it’s not him sitting next to me. It’s a girl. She’s not looking up, she’s spearing carrots neatly onto her fork, her long blonde hair tucked neatly behind her ears so she won’t get food in it. I stare at her for a second, then blurt unceremoniously, 

“Where’s Al?”

She bites the carrots off her fork, sets it down on her plate, and turns her head to look at me. I meet her eyes while she chews carefully, smiling a little. She’s pretty. Clear skin, blue eyes, and shiny golden hair, wavy, falling to the middle of her back. She raises an eyebrow at me, obviously noticing the staring. I cough, embarrassed, and look away.

“Don’t panic,” Her voice is teasing, assured, but soft. “He’s there, behind Lyla.” She points towards the Ravenclaw table, where, sure enough, Al is leaning over a girl at the table with tanned skin and long dark hair, slightly pushed out of her conversation as she talks with the girls around her. Every now and then, he commands her attention, and she’ll smile, or give a quick response. Lyla… Hmm - oh! I feel a laugh threatening. The ‘Dream Girl’. He got in there quick.

As if she’s read my mind, the girl smirks, her eyes flashing mischievously. 

“I knew he liked Lyla – we have History of Magic with Ravenclaw and he can never take his eyes off her. I told him she broke up with Carmichael in the summer, and he should go say hi,” She explains. 

“Oh.” I’m sort of at a loss for words – I barely know this girl, why’s she acting like she’s Al’s agony aunt or something? And talking to me like we’re in this together?

“I’m surprised, he’s never usually this –“

“Forward?” She cuts in, smiling. “Well, I do have a way with persuading guys - when I want to,” she rolls her eyes as if this is a terrible inconvenience. I must look confused, because she adds, “Scorpius? It’s Aria, remember? Although you’ll know that, ha ha, because we’re in the same house, of course!”

Dim memories comes to mind: A group of girls dissolving in giggles when Al and I walked into Transfiguration once, someone’s eyes lingering on us too long; bumping into a blonde-haired girl as we went opposite ways in and out of the common room; Rose waving to the Philips twins, Gregory and Aria, at the commemoration; and of course, Rose’s compromising embraces with her good-looking brother.

“Oh, right, yeah - we’ve spoken before, right? Sorry, just bad with names.” I manage a sheepish half-smile. 

“No biggie.” She tosses her hair back and starts spearing more carrots. “We have had two months off, so I guess you’ve got an excuse.” She flicks me another dazzling smile, and I start to wonder, is she flirting with me? Surely she wouldn’t have sent Al to hit on that girl out of the goodness of her heart? There’s all those smiles too, and the way every now and then, her arm brushes with mine. My stomach gives a lurch, and I can feel my heartbeat gathering speed. Bloody hell, how am I supposed to act now? I’ve kissed girls before, and you know, stuff like that, but that was mostly during drunk parties in the Room. I don’t actually know what to do when one comes and sits and flirts!

“Hey, Scorp!” Pheww. Saved by Al twice in one day. His voice is breathless, his eyes bright. “Did you see? Did ya? I just went over and talked to her! Lyla Magnotis,” He seems to sigh her name, and his eyes drift, dreaming. I snap my fingers in front of his face and he jumps, then squeezes down next to me, unabashedly pushing Aria up the bench. I don’t think he even notices her. Half of me is relieved, the other half disappointed that we’re no longer sat together.

“I’m proud,” I say, raising my eyebrows. “When did you grow guts, Albus Potter?” He elbows me in the side and nicks a Yorkshire pudding off my plate, as now the mains have disappeared and the gold plates are serving dessert. 

“Bimey, dese ar’ goob.” Al’s mouth is full of Yorkshire pudding.

“You got that right,” I agree, taking a spoonful of my vanilla mousse, “I’d come back just for the food.”

***

The first week back seems to fly by in a blur of classes, meals, piles of homework, and avoiding Rose like the plague. Although the girl I’d actually like to see, a certain blonde Philips twin, is nowhere to be found. Considering we share classes and a common room, I haven’t exchanged two words with her since the start of term feast. I can’t quite explain the sudden urge I have to talk to her, seen as whenever I imagine a second encounter, my mouth dries up and I can’t think of a single thing to say. Yet when her image fills my head, my stomach gives that lurch again and even I know that only means one thing. Let’s just admit it. I have a crush on Aria Philips. 

I want to talk to her but I don’t, she’s in my head even when I’m sleeping, I’m hyper-aware she’s going to be around every corner… Hell, I’m even planning out our encounters! And all this came from one flipping conversation at dinner. Curse all girls and their damned flirting.

“Hey Al?” We’re slouched on the sofa in the common room, it’s a dark green velvet (no surprise there) and the whole room basks in the eerie green light from the lanterns high on the arched ceiling. Al and I are like bloody Inferi, leaning over the little coffee table trying to cram tomorrow’s homework in. Al yawns widely and blinks at me, I can see he’s trying to focus on what I’m saying.

“Mhmm?” 

“You know when Aria sent you to talk to Lyla - back on the first day?”

“Yep…” His eyes are starting to close. 

“Al! Well, what did she say, like exactly? Did she mention me? Did she say why?”

He frowns a little, as though my question is odd, but I think he’s too exhausted to actually think about it.

“No. She just knew that I liked Lyla, and said she’d broken up with her boyfriend, and that she’d be really pleased if I made the effort and went over… She was quite persuasive, actually,” He shakes his head like this confuses him. “Why are you so interested? Do you like her or something? Oh MERLIN, you do, don’t you! You’re blushing!” The tiredness evaporates instantly as he points his finger at me accusingly. 

“Oh, shut up, no I'm not!" I know my cheeks are red, and I duck my head, embarrassed. "Well, you’re a fine one to talk."

“You know she’s Philips’ twin sister, right? And Philips is with Rose?” He doesn’t say this like it’s an issue, more like it’s a fact he thinks I should know.

“Yeah, and Voldemort was the bad guy?” I counter, “I’m not a COMPLETE idiot, Al, I did bump into them twice in the holidays.”

“Bump. Hmm. Probably not the term I’d choose, but…” 

I roll my eyes.

“Well, I feel like our term’s just got a lot more interesting.” He smirks at me.

“Complicated, I’d say.” I shoot him a dark look.

****

I wake up the next morning to the first rays of autumn sun coming in through the dormitory window. I give Al a poke as I creep to the bathroom, he’s always a late riser, and I notice that today, I’m in an unusually good mood. Somehow I doubt it’s due to the fact we managed to cram today’s homework in last night. 

The other guys in our dormitory, Hunter Flint and Ewan Crabbe, are the moody, gorilla-type, so I’m not about to wake them up. Mostly, Al and I try to avoid them at all costs. I wash my face and pull my robes on in the little bathroom, and wonder idly if I’ll get to see Aria today. We have Defence first, maybe if I’m early she’ll be waiting outside to go in? 

Let’s skip breakfast. I’m really feeling reckless today. I shove my toothbrush back, and grab my satchel from behind the door.

“Al-I’m-going-early-to-Defence-to-see-You-Know-Who-but-not-that-You-Know-Who-obviously--the-one-we-talked-about-last-night!” I gabble this sentence in a rush at Al’s dimly stirring form, before rushing out the door.

When I reach the corridor though, the aforementioned girl is nowhere to be seen. There’s a group of chattering Slytherin girls, yes, but she’s definitely not one of them. 

“Quick, that’s him! Have you Disillusioned yourself yet?”

“Yes, of course, Damaris – stop shouting - he’ll hear!”

Disillusioned? What is she on about? And I’m the only ‘him’ here, this better not be another bloody prank on me. There’s been more than enough in my five years at this school. Guess it comes from having an ex-Death Eater dad or something. Curses at him for not being a bloody Healer.

“Is he still there? You’re blocking my view, Bronwyn!”

“It’s not me, it’s Marisa!”

Suddenly, McGonagall’s icy voice chips in. Where the hell did she come from? 

“And we’ll have no magic in the corridors, Aria, no matter which boy you’re trying to hide from now.” She tuts, and waves her wand over the group.

In a faint shimmer, the Disillusion charm is off, and an extra member of the group appears. Of course. Aria. She looks at me in a mix of horror and mortification, and I simply raise an eyebrow at her. “Well, I think I might be owed an explanation for this…” I deadpan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, second chapter done! Next one will be up in a week, keep reading :)) -L


	3. Girls' Logic

Aria hangs her head in shame, and can’t meet my eyes as she mutters, “I wanted you to make an effort, so I thought if you hadn’t see me in ages, you’d be interested, and come and chase me down…” She trails off, a dark blush seeping into her cheeks.

I fight the urge not to laugh out loud at this. Girl logic is _bizarre_.

I think for a second, and try to process her words.

“So… you like me then?” I question boldy. (Not gonna lie, I’m pretty impressed by how assertive I’m being in this conversation.)

“Well, you know, I just…” she blushes again, and it’s cute. I feel the nauseous feeling in my stomach again – Merlin, I really need more practice with girls. But if she does like me, which I think we can pretty much infer, then this is gonna be a whole lot easier than I thought. Who knew?

“Why didn’t you just come talk to me?” I ask, bemused, and very aware of the growing female audience we have gathered. Her voice is even quieter now.

“You-you’re so,” She practically whispers this, “good-looking, I didn’t think you’d even be interested, and I- I was shy!” Yeah, and Voldemort was part-Veela. Next joke.

“P-please don’t hate me,” She’s back with the whisper again, looking down through her lashes. Honestly, you’d think I’m Snape’s ghost or something the way this girl’s acting – I feel like saying ‘I’m not gonna bite you!’

“Hey, meet me after this, why don’t you? We haven’t got a class next, so we can walk to the common room together.” Again with the confidence – I’m on a roll today. I have a weird hunch she’ll say yes, though. She just throws a little smile at me, blushing and then nodding at the floor. At that moment, though, her, me, and the little audience that has grown around us, are distracted by the arrival of Professor Chang, who ushers us all into Defence.

I take my usual at the back next to Al, who seemingly missed this little event in the corridor and came straight into class. His head is resting on his hands, his forehead on the desk. I elbow him as I get my things out of my bag.

“Psst. Psst, Al!”

“What? I swear if she doesn’t take this bloody essay in I’m gonna remind her of when she cried whilst kissing my dad,” Al’s voice is fierce and I expect he’s just pissed we spent half of the night doing Chang’s Vampire homework.

“Never mind about that,” I persist, “Guess what just happened?”

Al is (as I knew he would be) suitably impressed by my (if I say so myself) expert handling of the Aria Situation. Of course, we shut up when Chang comes to collect the essays – much to his delight – but right when we’re about to start discussing how Al can apply the same technique to Lyla, a note reaches us. Tess Gorweaves, a Gryffindor, leans over from the row in front of us and passes a tiny folded paper onto my desk.  
“Who’s this from?” I hiss. She’s friends with Dom, Thea, and, of course, Rose, as they share a dorm, but she doesn’t usually hang around with us, so I doubt it’s from her. However, she just winks infuriatingly and turns back around to face the front. I look at Al and we make a silent decision to not open it yet – Chang’s not as easy-going as she looks.

At the end of class, Al and I are the first out – I shove the note to him.

“You’ll have to open it, I’m meeting her, aren’t I? Besides, it’s more likely to be for you. Let me know what it says when I get back, yeah?” He’s already being swept up by the throng in the corridor, but he nods at me as I wait outside the door for Aria. Suddenly I feel horribly nervous for this. Like, I didn’t in class, but that’s probably because I was too busy talking to Al and thinking about work to properly worry. What if I scare her off or if the whole thing’s just horribly awkward?

Before I can actually abandon the whole damned escapade, Aria appears. Blimey, she is gorgeous, I’d already forgotten. Her long white-blonde waves are pushed back from her face, her pale cheeks are now the perfect shade of rosy, and when she spots me she literally glows.

“Hey,” she looks at me shyly as we fall into step down the corridor.

“Hey,” I try to think of something good to say. “How long have you had this little crush, then?” I tease, “I wouldn’t have guessed at the feast…”

“Oh, no, you can’t ask me that!” she blushes, and I laugh with her. “Well… If you want to know the truth… I guess since before we broke up for summer. You, and Al too, you both grew about a foot, and, well – I doubt I was the only one who noticed,” she’s embarrassed again – she shouldn’t be – this is about the best day of my life.“…And at the feast, well, the girls had egged me on so much, really I was just faking it, wanting to impress…” She trails off.

I push my hair back, and look into her eyes. With our blonde hair and pale skin, we could be siblings.

“So, how about it, then?”

Damn. What have I just said. Take it back. I TAKE IT BACK! Shit shit SHIT.

She looks at me in shock, and actually stops walking on the staircase down to the common room. Well, on the bright side, at least we know she brings out my confident side.

“Scorpius, do you mean what I think you mean? Are you asking me out?” The shocked look disappears, and she starts to smile shyly. She actually giggles uncertainly as she waits for me to answer.

“Well…” Its bloody well said now isn’t it. “Yes.” SAY SOMETHING ELSE, IDIOT. “I mean, how do you fancy a date at Madame Puddifoot’s next Hogsmeade weekend?”

“In there quick, aren’t you?” Back with the giggles and the flirty, assertive tone, “We hardly know each other!” I stop on the stairs too, so she’s stood two steps below me.

“So, is… Is that a no?”

“I’d love to go to Madame Puddifoot’s with you, Scorpius. Thank you for asking me,” She smiles at me, her blue eyes shining, and balances on tiptoe to brush my cheek with her lips, her blonde hair grazing my face. I stand, frozen in actual disbelief. 'I'd love to'??

“And, actually, I kinda lied,” she squeezes my arm and looks a little sheepish. “I’m in Divination next, but I wanted to walk with you so… I guess we’ll see each other later on! Toodles!”

Toodles? Who the fuck says ‘Toodles’? What’s more, who says yes to a date with a guy they’ve spoken to three, maybe four, times tops? What sort of angelic goddess says yes to a date with _me_ , on top of that? Whose life is this and what have they done with mine?!  
Realising I’m still stood in the middle of the stairs, and holding up rather a large queue, I hurriedly set off again, and rush into the common room for Al. We have a heck of a lot of talking to do.

I give the password to the gargoyle guarding the stone entrance, and glance around the green-tinged room for my mate. Before I’ve even spotted him, though, he’s up in my face, waving that envelope from Tess around. His eyes are bright, and he looks like he’s bursting to speak.

“Rose sent it,” he blurts, “It’s for you!”

“Um, what?”

“Look.” Impatient, he starts to unfold the paper and thrusts it into my hand.

_Malfoy,_

_Meet me in the Gryffindor common room at 8.00._

_The password’s Hinkypunk._

_We need to talk._

_RW_

“Nahhh, I don’t think so!” I shake my head fiercely, “If this is just another chance for her to have a fat rant at me, I refuse to go.” I shove the note back to Al and plonk down in a stiff emerald sitting chair.

“How should I know what it’ll be?” Al retorts. “You know as well as I do Rose is anything but predictable.”

“I swear though, Al, since summer, every conversation I’ve had with that girl has resulted in a row. She’s probably just pissed I asked her boyfriend’s twin out on a date." I smirk, knowing this will get a good response out of him – and also because I’m secretly bouncing off the walls that it’s gone so well.

“You did WHAT?!”

After that lovely story has been cleared up nicely, Al feels it’s time to remind me of the conversation on the Express.

“But I told you I wouldn’t argue with her, not that I’d be her best friend!”

“You told me, as I distinctly remember, that you’d make an effort with her! This is not making an effort!”

“Al, people are starting to stare.”

“People always stare.” He dismisses.

“Yeah, at you maybe, Chosen One Junior.”

“Stop deflecting! You never cared about staring before.” He glares at me, stood up, facing my chair. “And I’ll come too, we haven’t seen Dax and Freddie in ages, or Thea and Dom, don’t forget.”

I fix him with a look, and fold my arms stubbornly.

“Scorpius Malfoy, you’ve just asked out the girl of your dreams, you should be on cloud nine right now! We are going to see Rose and that’s final. You told me you’d make an effort and now’s that chance.”

“Urghhh! I detest you sometimes, you know that?” I close my eyes and slump back in the chair, defeated.

“And you’d better shape up too – we’ve got Transfiguration next, then Potions, then History of Magic! Chop chop!”

“You sound like Molly,” I groan.

“Dear Merlin, imagine if she was in our year,” Al shudders, “We’d have that on our backs during NEWTs!”

“I feel for James and Roxanne, I’m not gonna lie,” I say sympathetically, reluctantly getting up from the chair, “They’ve got her for them this year.” I grab my bag from the floor and we set off up to the rest of the castle.

****

“For Merlin’s sake, Scorp, stop looking like you’re going to your execution!” Al swats me with ‘1001 Great Saves by Quidditch Keepers’.

“Why are you even reading that?” I retort hotly. “Don’t you have Muggle Studies to be doing? Not all of us are homework-free you know, you could be helping me out!”

“You know, we might as well set off now,” Al muses, completely ignoring me. “It’ll take about ten minutes to get to Gryffindor from the Library.”

“I haven’t finished Charms yet,” I snap, but Al is already packing up the books into our bags.

“Shhh! Silence in the Library!” Madam Pince hisses, glaring at us from over her glasses.

I sigh heavily and sling my bag over my shoulder.

“If she kills me, you’re dead,” I say to Al. He just laughs and starts to go out of the library.

“It’s not bloody funny,” I mutter.

I’m determined to be moody all the way to their common room, so I delight Al with one-word answers till we get to the Fat Lady. I don’t think he even notices – or cares – he’s just happy to be seeing Freddie, Dax, Dom and Thea. And James, Rose and Roxanne of course. And Lily and Hugo. Dear Merlin, it’s basically a bloody family gathering – grab Louis, Molly and Lucy and the whole flipping lot of them’d be in this common room.

“Hinkypunk,” Al says firmly to the Fat Lady. She frowns at him a little, before swinging forward – we’ve been in this common room wayy too many times for her to cause a fuss.

“Al, little bro!” James is the first one to pounce on him, ruffling his hair good-naturedly. Al pulls a face at him and pushes him off.

“What brings you two sssssnakes here then?” James grins, wiggling his tongue at us. “Oh, but wait,” He points a finger at me, tilting his head and smirking. “Let me guess, that something takes the form of a tall, mouthy redhead?”

“Did someone call?” It’s Lily, and she smiles at Al and I, coming over to lean on a squashed red sofa.

Al scoffs. “I’d hardly call you tall!” She sticks her tongue out at him.

“I’d sit down, if I was you two,” This is Dax, who winks, twisting round over the back of the sofa.

“Mm, we’ve heard her, today, and it may take a while,” Fred adds in from next to him.

“On that note, I’ll leave you to face our _angel_ of a cousin,” James smirks, and strolls to the portrait-hole.

“Where are you going?” Alec Carven snaps, a fellow Gryffindor seventh year who is looking up from across the room. He’s sat with James’ third dorm-mate, Victor Davies. They both have their eyes fixed on James, and their looks are not what you would call friendly.

“Ah guys, calm down, calm down. A certain blonde goddess is waiting for moi – forgot to mention it after Potions.”

I laugh, and Al rolls his eyes. “Who is it this week?” He asks.

“Only the gorgeousest girl here,” James raises his eyebrows, “Serenity Twycross.”

“’Gorgeousest’ isn’t a word, idiot,” Dom joins in - she and Thea are sat near the fire, watching the whole thing. James sticks his finger up at her, and struts backwards to the door.

“I’ll see you in the dorm, yeah? You don’t need to wait up.” This is directed at Alec and Victor, who manage to grin back at him (even this still looks menacing), before putting their heads together and talking in low tones. They creep me out, those two. I don’t know why James is even friends with them.

Anyway, taking Dax’s advice, I go and join the girls on the floor. Al goes over to sit with Fred and Dax, and they all start talking quickly about something.

“Missed us, have you?” Dom winks.

“Oh, I’m heartbroken without you two,” I tease, leaning back on my hands.

“You shouldn’t be,” Thea smiles knowingly, “We heard about a certain Philips twin and you,”

“Ohh, it’s only a date,” I feel my cheeks redden.

“So far…” Dom wiggles her eyebrows at me and Thea laughs.

“Honestly, you’re like the third people that’ve brought this up! I only asked her in second period,” I roll my eyes.

“Oh, we’d better leave it then, Tee, hadn’t we? Don’t wanna make it _awkward_ for the two lovebirds, do we?”

“I bet Rose didn’t have to put up with this rubbish,” I argue, still embarrassed. The girls, looking at something behind me, don’t respond, and I already know what’s about to happen. I sigh.

“So let’s have it then, where is she?” I snap, exasperated already.

Thea grimaces at me, sympathetically, and nods over my shoulder. I turn to look, and see Rose pecking an eager Philips on the cheek outside the door, and then clambering through the portrait hole, arms full of books. My heart sinks. She spots me, and nods in my direction. With Rose why does it always feel like a chill has descended over the room when she sees me?

She dumps the books and her bag on a little table, and walks over to me. Her hands are in the pockets of her robes and she barely acknowledges her friends as she crosses her legs, standing in front of me. Well, if I die now, I want Crystal Balls to play at my funeral.


	4. Civil.

“Wanna take a walk, Malfoy?”

“Sure,” I say, and my voice comes out brighter than I feel.

Dax and Fred pull faces at me from the couch, and Al gives me a thumbs-up. Well, he’s just in denial.

We walk to the portrait-hole in silence, leaving the rowdy noise of the common room behind. I like Gryffindor’s one – it just feels warm and kinda homely, whereas ours has the theme that heat is overrated.

“Soo…” I start, wanting to get it over with.

Rose just carries on walking. To be fair, silences with her aren’t awkward, we’ve known each other for so long. Really, the whole lot of us don’t usually fill conversation gaps unless there’s something to be said. She stops on the second floor West corridor, where there’s a little bench on the windowsill, and sits on it.  
I follow her lead, and lean back against the glass. I wait. Wizarding War 3 couldn’t rush this girl.

“You’re probably mad at me,” she looks up, and her tone is calm, measured.

“Not yet…” I reply, confused.

“Okay, well, I should be mad at you then.”

“Aren’t you?” Merlin knows she usually is.

“Well, yes – there’s hundreds of girls at this school – and you had to go for the sister of my boyfriend?” She snaps. There we go, I knew she couldn’t bottle it for long.

“You mean you don’t want to double date?” I retort.

“Don’t push me, Malfoy,” she gives me a warning look.

“So what are you doing to me, then, Weasley?”

“Piss off, git,” she growls.

“Knew you wouldn’t last long.”

There’s a pause while she shoots me a dirty look, and collects herself, it seems. Well, that’s the furthest we’ve gotten since summer without a full-blown duel, so…

“I didn’t call you here to row,” I keep my mouth shut at this absurdness.

“We used to get on fine –“ She breaks off at the look I give her. “Well, we used to barely argue!”

“Stretching the truth, a bit,” I mutter.

“At least I’m not exaggerating it.”

“Neither am I!”

“Well anyway, this is exactly what I mean. We’re in sixth year now, we don’t have long left, and I don’t want to waste it on petty fights.” She opens her mouth to carry on, but I interrupt her.

“You can’t act like this is all my fault, Rose! All those rows started with you screaming at me-”

“-Will you just listen? Stop interrupting. Look, I know it’s my fault as well – as much as it pains me to admit it, we’re both too stubborn,” she rubs her temples and breathes out heavily. “But seen as you’re you,” she looks at me like I’m something nasty colouring the bottom of her shoe, “I thought I’d be the bigger person here.” I frown at her explanation.

“Hang on a sec,” I argue, “What brought all this on? Al?”

“Yeah, he may have mentioned it,” she says dryly, “But, like I’ve got so much on at the moment anyway – what with Gregory and starting revision for NEWTs –“

“Rose - they’re next year!!” I blurt in horror.

“Exactly!” Her eyes are wide. I just stare at her. Well - she’s Hermione Granger’s daughter all right.

“Anyway, what with all that, and Teddy, he thinks it’s the right thing to do too,”

“You wrote to him?”

  
“Yeah? I always do, he’s pretty chilled with stuff – more than Mum and Dad, that’s for sure…” she trails off. I raise my eyebrows at her topic drift. She may as well carry on, she’s on a roll with this now. “Yeah, so, erm, that’s four – oh and Dom and Thea were nagging at me too – they miss you, I think,” she wrinkles her nose at this, like she can’t for the life of her imagine why. “So, I guess I gave up. Or gave in. Whichever. Tess forced me to write the note in Defence, as once I mentioned it, she thought we should get it over with before I changed my mind. Which didn’t take long, I remembered what an idiot you are and why I was mad in the first place.” (I tut loudly at this part.) “So that’s why I was late,” she carries on, “I was trying to put it off. And, yeah, that’s it, I guess…”

"Well then." I'm sort of lost for words."So shall I pencil ‘Meet Weasley and Philips in Hogsmeade’ in the diary?”

“You’re such a prick, you know that?” She glares at me.

“It’s a talent,” I shoot back.

“I still don’t like you, by the way,” she raises her eyebrows.

“The feeling’s mutual,” I stare her out.

After a few seconds, she extends her hand to me, her eyes narrowing dangerously as she does – as if to say ‘Don’t get any ideas’.

“Civil?” She asks.

“Civil.” We shake.

  
****

  
Al is ecstatic when we both come back in one piece. Even though Rose sits down with Dom and Thea near the fire, and I join the rest of them on the sofas, he is determined this is The Greatest Achievement. And naturally, it’s all down to him.

“See, I knew you wouldn’t regret it! What did I say, on the train?” I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so bloody smug.

“We’re still not friends,” I argue.

“He’s still a bloody menace,” Rose snaps from the hearth.

Dax, Freddie and Al exchange looks, their eyebrows raised. Then Thea changes the subject tactfully, asking about upcoming Quidditch trials. How she’s even friends with Al’s loudmouth cousins I have no clue. Fred and Dax’s voices rush over each other, clamouring about their imminent Quidditch cup win, (Fred is a Beater, obviously, and Dom is a Chaser) and I stretch my legs out on the carpet and lean back on the sofa.

“What about James, though?” Dax asks.

“What about him?” Dom is dismissive.

“Well, what if he doesn’t pick you two for the team this year?”

“Of course he will,” she scoffs.

“Oh - ‘Of course he will’,” Dax mimics her confident tone.  

“Oh, shut up, Dax,” Dom rolls her eyes, “You know we’re good, and besides, who did he pick last year, hm?”

“-And there’s Matthews too – he’s a strong Chaser,” Dax carries on as if she hasn’t spoken. “Nicole Wood is in Seventh, that’s a positive for her, and then Robin Tarleworth I reckon will get the other Beater.”

“I don’t know, there’s still tryouts, don’t forget,” Fred joins in, “And I reckon Hugo’d do a pretty good job, he’s not bad, ya know,”

“Nah,” Dom says, “No way he’d take it, he’s not the type.”  
  
“There’s no point fussing about it now,” Rose chips in tetchily, “You’ll all find out soon enough.”

“Never was one for Quidditch.” Dom stage-whispers behind her hand to us.

“I like watching it,” Rose argues, “And it is very interesting, but can’t we hold off the Quidditch conversations till the season actually starts?”  
  
“No,” Dax, Dom, Fred, Al and I respond.

“No,” James comes waltzing into the common room. “And you never know, I might surprise you all, and pick Serenity instead.” He winks at us. I notice, though, that his cheeriness seems a little forced, and he has dark bags under his eyes. Maybe it’s not all it’s cracked up to be, having a different girl every week.

“And on that note, I think we should go back, don’t you?” Al stands up from the sofa and stretches. “Shit, did we have Herbology for tomorrow?” 

I close my eyes slowly. “Why do I have the horrible feeling he set an essay as we were walking out the door?”

“And we spent all that time doing Muggle Studies and Charms…”

“Here,” Thea interrupts our anguished rant, “We had Longbottom first thing. You can copy mine. But I want it back before lunch!”

“Thea Carleston.” Al says slowly, grinning, “If Lyla (absurdly) doesn’t fall for me, I will absolutely marry you.”

She laughs, and hands him the parchment.

“Now get out of our common room, trespassers!” Dax yells. It’s an old joke, but we all laugh, and even Rose half-smiles from where she’s stood, on the stairs, halfway to her dorm; then Al and I exit the portrait-hole, and head for bed.

  
****

  
In an unusual turn of events, both Al and I copy up Neville’s essay before breakfast, and hand it to a thoroughly surprised Thea in the Great Hall. Al accompanies it with a declaration that, actually, scrap Harry Potter, Thea Carleston is the biggest hero since… Well, he’s not quite sure since what. I think she’s pleased at this because she pushes us off unceremoniously and goes a little pink round her ears. Class girl, that one. More than can be said for Rose, at least. Aforementioned witch is reading up on Athrimancy notes while eating porridge, and merely gives us a tiny smile in greeting. Well. It’s better than a scream, I guess. Small mercies.

At the Slytherin table, I make sure to take a seat next to Aria, and it feels like the beginning of something. What, I’m not quite sure, but something, definitely. She sees me and takes my hand as I reach for the pumpkin juice. She’s not my girlfriend yet, I guess, but this is pretty promising stuff. I smile, but after a minute it’s kinda irritating in a way as I can’t actually get any breakfast.

Al sees my predicament though, luckily, and leans over from opposite to pour a glass of juice. “It’s Aria, isn’t it? Can I pour you some pumpkin juice?” Boy, can he turn on the charm when he wants to.

“Oh, no thank you, I’m fine with water,” she smiles.

At this, I feel a tincy pang of jealousy – shouldn’t she be smiling like that at me? She seems to read my mind though, and turns towards me, reaching to pull toast crumbs out of my hair. Al coughs suddenly, his face looking very red, and then he leans into his copy of the Daily Prophet so I can’t see his face any more.

“Um, shouldn’t you be hankering after Lyla, or something?” I snap.

“No, it’s too early for soppy sort of things at breakfast,” Al retorts, “Don’t want to put people off their porridge, do we?” Blimey, he’s a git. I shoot him a dirty look and stab my bacon.

“Oh, when was the last time you talked to her, Al?” Aria asks smoothly, “Only, you wouldn’t want her to find someone else, because I heard Markus was interested.”  
  
“Creed?”

“Mm-hm.” She slices her grapefruit in half. Al gives me a worried look.

“It’s fine,” I say, “We’ve got Herbology then Charms, and then we have a break, so we can work on the Win Lyla Over Plan.”

“You’re a fine one to be so calm, it’s alright for you.” He gives a pointed look to Aria, who doesn’t notice as she wipes juice off her fingers with a napkin. I shoot him a sharp look back. The last thing I need is to put her off now.

****

“Oi,” I jab Al in the back as he descends down the staircase. “Do think we got away with it?”

“With what?” he replies, distracted.

“With the essays.”

“Oh. Well yeah, I mean, did you change yours a bit?” I nod as we go into the common room.

"And at the end of the day, it is only Neville.” Al says.

“True.” We sit down on the chairs. The common room is almost empty, most of the other Slytherins have headed to the Library or the Great Hall for their free period.

“So. Lyla.” I start.

“Urghh. I swear she’s forgotten I even exist,” he moans.

“Then let’s remind her!” Since Aria has turned everything upside down, I’m suddenly uncharacteristically optimistic about love. “You need a grand gesture or something, one that’ll sweep her off her feet. Girls like that kind of thing.” I say confidently.

“Since when were you a relationship guru?” Al demands.

“Erm, who has the girlfriend here?”

“I though she wasn’t your girlfriend!?”

“Well, she isn’t really, not yet – but she’s something! And odds on she will be by this time next week,” I retort.

“Right. So. A grand gesture?”

“Yep. You could wait for her outside Ravenclaw tower with a bouquet, or maybe charm the dinner cutlery to spell her name? Or something like that, anyway.”

“I could charm paper aeroplanes with secret admirer notes!” he exclaims.

“That’s the spirit! Maybe talk to her first though – like to set the scene, plant the seed, blah blah. Then she’ll be less surprised when she sees you doing - well, whatever it is.”

“Then… you think I should go over at lunch?”

I point my finger at him. “That’s the spirit,” I grin. “Now, don’t we have Transfiguration homework for next lesson?”  
Al doesn’t even reply, he just sighs and reaches into his satchel. The next thirty minutes are spent avidly scribbling on parchment, hoping Cadawaller won’t realise we wrote this twenty minutes before the class. I finish before Al, and start to pack my things away.

“When’s the Quidditch tryouts?” I ask him absently.

“Two weeks, I think.” He’s still writing.

“Think we’ll be on the team?”

“Sure,” he says easily, rolling up the parchment. “We have been the last three years, haven’t we?”

“Mm. I guess so, but then again Draven could pick oddly, we don’t know what he’s like.

“He’s competitive, we know that, so I’m guessing he’ll pick the best, not just his friends,” Al slings his bag over his shoulder and we start out of the common room.

“And of course, we are the best,” I carry on his sentence, smirking.

“You know it,” He winks at me, running his free hand through his messy black hair as we walk up the staircase. Still unflinchingly confident. Hm. Let’s see if he keeps this attitude up when he’s talking to Dream Girl at lunch.

****

“Just go away, Al! Haven’t I made it clear enough I don’t like you like that!” A girl’s high-pitched shriek echoes over the Hall. Oh, fuck.

“No! You barely talk to me!”

“Exactly! Will you just get the picture?!”

“But-but I was only trying to make an effort…”

“Well don’t! Just bloody well leave me alone!”

At this, a dark-haired girl storms over to the Ravenclaw table and sits down angrily next to her friends. Al, in contrast, traipses miserably over to me, his head hung. In true Al style, he shoves Aria up the bench, sitting in between us, and ignores me completely, stabbing a dumpling with terrific force. He attacks one, two, three, <em>four</em> of the little parcels before he even acknowledges he’s not alone.

“Bloody girls,” he snaps viciously, not looking up from his plate. “They can all be locked in the fucking dungeons for all I care.” Aria looks rather put-out at this, and I give her a sympathetic look, before motioning she might be better sat with Marisa and Damaris for the time being.

Sorry, I mouth. And she shrugs, frowning a little, as she grabs her bag and swaps seats. Al looks up at me, his expression murderous. This is probably due to the fact that, a table away, a certain Magnotis girl is sat amongst her large group of friends, talking incessantly, and being reassured and plied with food offerings. After about thirty seconds, she laughs heartedly, and puts her arms round the girl on her left.

“Of course, you’re so right, Annie! I totally should have known,” she smiles.

At this, Al clenches his fists and stands up abruptly. I reach out a hand to him, but before I can speak, he turns and marches out of the Hall. Well, that went well.

I jump at the feel of a hand on my shoulder. It’s Dom, and Thea is right behind her. I open my mouth, but for the second time today, I’m cut off.

“I know. We saw.” Dom’s voice is flat, and her eyes are hard. Thea looks down, her fringe falling over her eyes. They both take seats on the Slytherin bench, the ones Al and Aria have so recently vacated. Thea puts her arm round my shoulders.

“This is all my fault,” I groan. “If I hadn’t told him to go talk to her!” I put my head in my hands, sighing.

“I think we should talk to him,” Dom says quietly.

“Yeah, he looked pretty cut up before,” Thea adds.

“This’ll have hurt him bad, more than he’ll admit,” Dom looks at me, and I lean my head in my hand, resting my elbow on the table. I meet her eyes, and think for a moment.

“Tonight. Room of Requirement, 7.30,” I say slowly. “That’s if I can actually get Al to do anything.”

The girls nod, and after shooting me sympathetic looks, they head back to the Gryffindor table. For a second, a single selfish thought creeps into my head – I’m so glad Aria had a crush on me. If I’d ended up like Al, especially in front of the whole school… Boy, he’s in deep shit right now. I sigh, sling my bag over my shoulder and head for Charms.

As I go through the huge wooden doorway, there’s a yelp, and I slam head-on straight into my favourite redhead.

“Ow! You did that on purpose!” Rose scowls, rubbing her arm, her hand entwined with Philips, who’s stood just behind her. I glare at him instead of her, in light of the truce.  
“Piss off, Weasley. That is a lie and you know it.”

“Give me a minute, please, Gregory. I’ll meet you inside.” she leans over and kisses him full on the mouth, they suck on each other’s lips for a solid minute. I tap my foot, waiting impatiently. No one needs to see that sort of a sickening sight. Rose grabs my arm and hauls me out of the way, to the side of the foyer.

“Don’t speak to me like that,” she snaps, her hand cutting into my arm, “I heard that, about Al. And I know it was your doing. He wouldn’t have had the nerve to do that without you egging him on.”

“I didn’t do it on purpose! Whatever you think, I like Al, he’s my best mate! I didn’t want him to be in this shit any more than you do!”

She frowns. “I’ll let you have the benefit of the doubt on this one, because we said we’d be civil. But watch yourself, and if you insist on being his friend, look out for him, ‘kay?” Her tone isn’t as cross, but she still manages a scowl before she stalks off into the Hall.

“Hey, Weasley?” I call just as she goes in.

“What?”

“It was an accident, you know, the bump.” She merely raises one eyebrow. “Sorry.” I say reluctantly – in light of the truce, and all.

And Rose, for the first time in a very Long while, smiles the smallest of smiles, fleetingly, in my direction.</p>


	5. An Intervention

"Al! Will you pleasee stop moping!” I grab his arm as he attempts to go up the stairs to our dorm.

“No! It’s not even been 24 hours since she told me she never wants to speak to me again!”

“It’s been plenty hours,” I groan, yanking on his sleeve. “I told Dom and Thea you’d come see them! Dax and Fred would’ve been there too, but they’re practising for the tryouts…” I keep talking at him, in the futile hope he’ll become distracted and walk with me. I just knew he’d be like this.

“Let me go to bed!”

“It’s 7.22!”

“I… Want to talk to Flint and Crabbe!”

“Oh yeah? And do you want to marry Ethel Crabbe and join Hufflepuff, too?”

“Piss off.” He mutters, and we’re at a stalemate. He sits down on the bottom step. I sink down next to him, and we both glare at some first-years who are trying to come up. They scurry off, hissing threats under their breath. The green lanterns hung on the walls light Al’s face eerily, making him slightly green and shadowy. It only adds to the miserable look he already has on. 

“You’ll feel better after talking to the girls, mate,” I try again.

“Hmpf.” He looks away. Dom may be somewhat tomboyish and not particularly tactful, but Thea makes up for that, and they both are a lot better at solving people’s problems than I am. The most I can say is, ‘Chin up, mate’. (We’ll put it down to being a guy thing.) For a minute or two, we sit in silence, I look up at the green flames, and Al looks down at the black swirls on the carpet. 

“Alright.” His voice is resigned, but definite. I don’t respond, but I stand up from the stairs and stretch, grabbing a hoodie from the sofa and pulling it on over my uniform. 

“Come on,” I say, checking the navy watch on my wrist. “We’re already late.” But I have to stifle a grin as I say it.

When we arrive at the Room, Dom is sat reading 'Take Chasing to New Heights' on a purple beanbag, and Thea is pacing in front of the fire, wand in hand, practicing non-verbal Transfiguration spells on the pair of mittens she has placed on the hearth. 

Al and I walk in, and I arch an eyebrow at the girls. Thea sees us and laughs, and Dom closes her book and swivels round on the beanbag.

“We knew you’d be late,” She explains simply, and flicks her short blonde locks over her shoulder. 

“So we came prepared.” Thea adds.

Then the three of us sort of become aware of the matter at hand, and we all turn to look at Al. With a long sigh, he plonks down on the other beanbag, and, following his lead, Thea and I sit next to the two of them on the floor. 

“So,” I start. I may as well be the catalyst of this conversation, because I’m likely to stay out of the rest of it.

“I don’t know why you’ve staged this bloody intervention,” Al mutters.

“Don’t start,” Thea is straightening her thick fringe and doesn’t look at him. I like how she cuts straight to the chase with Al. Ha ha, that should be Dom! (Chase, Chaser - get it?) Oh, I’m so funny.

He rolls his eyes and sits back in the beanbag, defeated, muttering something that sounds suspiciously like ‘Wish Dax and Fred were here’.

“So. We’ve got two options,” Dom says, ignoring him and pulling out her wand from her robes. She twirls it in front of her. In shining silver script, the phrases ‘MOVE ON’ and ‘WIN HER OVER’ are written in the air. Thea nods appreciatively at her wandwork. 

“Rose showed me.” Dom offers sheepishly.

“Well, let’s vote.” Thea suggests. I’m slightly confused as to why this has to be a jury’s decision, and not just, like, Al’s, but I’m not gonna fight with Thea on it.

“Those in favour of Al Moving On?” Dom asks, and only Thea raises her hand.

“Those who think he should Win Her Over?” Dom says in the same tone, and Dom, Al and I all put our hands in the air. 

We look at each other for a moment, silent, then Thea says shortly, “I think you picked the difficult option.”

“No shit, Sherlock,” Dom says. We all look at her in confusion, before she explains that he’s a Muggle detective. 

“So... What now?” Al asks, a little annoyed. No one says anything.

“I have an idea,” I blurt unexpectedly. “Okay, so, why don’t you just ignore her for a while, like a couple of weeks or more, maybe, and then – if I’m right, isn’t it James’ birthday late October, and don’t we usually have a giant party for it? Yeah, so, then you get her alone there somehow, and boom, she realises how much she’s missed you, how cute you are, she’s drank too much, and next think you know you’re a couple!” I take a deep breath out.

“I like how you think she’s got to be drunk to like me.” Al retorts.

“Well, I hate to break it to you, but she’s not big on you when she’s sober, mate.” I grin.

“You know, that’s not a bad plan, Scorp,” Dom muses, ignoring us. “I like it. Giving her space to calm down is always a good idea. Thea?”

“I’ll like it if it works.” Thea gives a little smile. 

I lean back on my hands, smug. It’s not often my plans work, and I’m very glad no one draws attention to what happened the last time I ‘helped’ Al with Lyla.

“You shouldn’t let her affect you this much, you know,” Thea’s voice is gentle, and she nudges Al with her toe. “Like, I know you like her, but if she makes you so unhappy, then maybe she’s just not worth it?” 

Dom and Al scoff at this suggestion.

“Girl, the best things in life are worth being unhappy for,” Dom says to Thea, thinking she’s all wise. I stay quiet.

“She will be worth it.” Al says, assured. Thea shrugs, letting it go. 

“Hey,” Dom chirps, “Have you heard about the new girl coming here?” She’s trying to change the subject, and Thea latches onto it, asking who, why, when.

“Her name’s Claudette Charpente - at least that’s what Tess told me - and she’ll be in seventh year, she’s moving from Beauxbatons.” Dom, revelling in having the gossip, explains to us. 

“Well,” Al says, the ghost of a smile creeping onto his face for the first time this evening. “I know who that will interest…” We wait, and I raise my eyebrows.

“Who?”

“James.”

****

The next morning, yesterday’s sense of dread has dissipated, and I get to Defence with a spring in my step. After all, this is where the whole thing with Aria started, and it’ll be nice to speak to her after class, like always. Al, however, hasn’t shaken his gloomy mood. Not that I’m surprised. When he goes for things, he goes all out, and if they don’t work out, he’s pissed for at least a few days. Luckily, being Harry Potter’s son has its perks, (not that you’d ever catch me telling him that) and one of them is that, mostly, things tend to go smoothly for Albus Potter. Of course, this is an exception.

We don’t share Defence with any other Houses, in fact the only classes we do share are History of Magic, with Ravenclaw, and Potions, with Gryffindor.

I think this is mainly a good thing, as the last thing Al needs is a certain dark-eyed girl waltzing around class – it’ll only reiterate the fact he can’t have her. Yet, anyway.

“I bumped into Alec and Victor after breakfast,” He mutters darkly as we take our seats. This must’ve been after he went to speak to Lily, and before the two of us walked to Defence.

“And?” The jerks. Al and I are continually surprised as to why James still sticks with them.

Al scowls. “The usual. They’re dark, they are. I’ll bet you my last Knut they’re descendants of Death Eaters – oh, sorry! Not that we should stereotype, I mean –, “He looks flustered, and I know the last thing he means is to hurt my feelings.

“I know, I know – I’m the exception to the rule.” I punch his arm good-naturedly, to show I’m not bothered.

“Yeah – yeah that. And I bet they prove the rule.” He shakes his head.

“Ah, those idiots. Forget about it, mate,” I can’t think of anything else to say, and the only thing I’d like to add – that they’re absolute pricks – probably won’t do anyone any good.

“Cheer up,” I carry on, “You could have bumped into Flint and Crabbe too, they were looking particularly thuggish this morning,” I opt for the tactic of making him think he got off easy.

“Or Hagrid.” I sensibly ignore this comment, and instead say something generic about the class.

Al shrugs, letting the whole thing go, I hope, and we unpack our stuff. I can see Aria’s blonde waves shining a couple of rows in front of me, and I daydream for a few seconds about our upcoming date. If I’m completely honest, I’m dreading Madam Puddifoot’s, but that’s what girls like, isn’t it? Making a mental note to ask Dom about this, I try to pay attention to Chang.

“Right,” She says, her voice brisk. “I thought we’d do something a bit more interesting today, so I’ve brought a guest in to speak to you all. Now, be nice, please, class,” Her gaze lingers on Flint and Crabbe, and then on Bronwyn and Marisa. 

With what she’d like to think is a dramatic flourish, she ushers a very ragged, grubby looking wizard into the classroom. He has a very small build and very mousy, thinning hair, and he looks very scared at the prospect of ‘speaking to us all’, in fact, he barely looks like he can find his voice. Still, it’s very rare that we have guest speakers, so most people are quiet, watching him. His eyes dart nervously around the room, before settling at a spot just above all of our heads.

“Erm, yes, so hello, sixth years. My name is-is Laurence L-Lachlain, and I suppose I’m here today to, well, inform you about…” He pauses, and looks at Chang for help. She nods reassuringly, but in my opinion she looks a little worried. He twitches a little, pulls at his raggedy cloak, and carries on.

“…About some of the more, fearsome, shall we say, creatures that you’ll be studying for your NEWTs.” Al and I, and some others, look at him in horror. Merlin’s pants, Laurence, mate – NEWTs are next year!

He carries on regardless of this. “And, yes, so the first one would be – erm – a Runespoor,” He says the word slowly, like he’s giving us a great treat. In the corner, Chang flicks her wand, and an image appears on the white wall at the front of the class. “These are of the serpent family, and they were, well, somewhat popular as familiars for Dark Wizards and Witches at one point.” The snake on the wall starts to writhe and slither. “As you can see, it has – er – well three heads, and is a very b-bright orange colour.”

“Oooh, ssscary,” Flint hisses, laughing, and nudging Marisa, who he’s sat next to.

“Yes, well it can be you know –” Lachlain shakes his head, and Flint looks down, I don’t think he realised the teacher could hear him. Idiot.

“So I think we’ll maybe leave that one there, and the next is…” He scurries in his bag for notes. “Oh yes!” Wow, this guy is worse than Fred trying to do Potions. “Ghouls!” Chang waves her wand again and the next picture appears. “Yes, I know you m-may think that, well, they’re, erm, not particularly Dark, but I’d assure you, you’d be wrong. See, th-these ghouls can be persuaded to do wizards bidding, and, as well as their – um – unsavoury appearance…”

I’ve zoned out by this point. I look at Al, and his head’s on the desk, he’s doodling on a corner of his textbook. In front, Aria’s whispering fiercely to Damaris, their heads close. Even Chang’s eyes have glazed over. Well, at least she tried.

“He should take Hagrid’s job,” Al snaps as we leave the class. “He’s just as incompetent and just as interested in completely irrelevant creatures!”

Now’s the time for a subject change, I think.

“Why don’t we go and see Dax and Freddie tonight?” I give what I’d like to think is a helpful suggestion. “Aria’s said she’ll be studying with Damaris, she told me yesterday, so yeah… It’ll be a nice change?”

“Sure. Oh, only if Aria’s busy though – wouldn’t want to be your second choice or anything.”

“Okay,” I agree, ignoring his jibe. He’s had a hard 24 hours, I tell myself, gritting my teeth. I then stop outside class to wait for Aria, and he shakes his head at me and carries on to Charms.

“Hey,” I say, as Aria walks out. She still makes me feel a little nervous when I’m around her, but that’s good because at least we know I still like her, of course. 

“Excited for the weekend?” She looks up through her eyelashes, her voice flirty.

“Of course, of course" I reply quickly, smiling, but my mind’s still on asking Dom if girls actually do like Madam Puddifoot’s, and is it too late to rebook?

“Scorp-ius??” She trills, waving her hand gently in front of me. “I said, do you want to meet me at the Great Hall on Saturday, because it might take me a little while to be ready?”

“Yes, yes, sounds good.” I wish I could think of something a bit more interesting to say.

Aria pauses for a moment, maybe waiting for me to carry on talking, and then rushes on with her small talk. There’s a tincy sense of relief when we actually reach Charms, and I can take my usual seat next to Al in comfortable silence.

Dammit, I knew I should have said yes when Ethel Crabbe asked me out in second year – at least then I’d know how to hold a conversation with females other that Rose, Dom and Thea. In fact, scrap that. Other than Dom and Thea.

****

Dax yells at us as soon as we walk into their common room. He actually tumbles over the back of the sofa to rush over to us. 

“Creed or Philips?!”

“What?”

“Markus Creed or Gregory Philips?” He snaps impatiently.

“What the hell are you on about, mate?” Al saunters past him to Rose.

“Just pick!”

“Creed.” I say shortly, at the same time Al says, “Philips.”

“Ha! I win! You’re outvoted Rosie – should’ve ditched Philips for Markie!” Back on the sofa now, he ruffles her hair good-naturedly. She shakes him off and elbows him in the ribs.

“I’m dating Gregory, how many times, honestly?” She rolls her eyes, but her tone’s more exasperated than annoyed. “It doesn’t matter how many guys you get to shout a surname at me, Dax, it won’t change who I like.”

“I’ll ask James. JAMES!” He hollers, absolutely ignoring everything she just said. He gets up again and goes over to James. I laugh, and take his vacated seat. What? Rose and I are basically best friends now. Of course.

She raises her eyebrows at me in way of greeting, tucks her feet up on the sofa and picks up ‘An Amazingly Advanced Guide to Arithmancy’ from the coffee table. 

“Oi, Dom?” I say as she comes in through the portrait-hole with Fred. 

“Mm?” 

“Can I ask you something?”

“Go ahead.”

“No, I mean, like, can we have a minute, alone?”

“No offence, Scorp, but I’ve frankly no interest in being the other woman. If you’re looking for sex on the side, ask Thea.”

I splutter, and attempt a denial of this insane statement, just as Al objects with, “There’ll be no relations from any of you girls with Scorp, let’s get that out of the way now,” He grins, his eyes lingering on Thea’s blushing cheeks.

Lily, who’s sat near the fire playing Exploding Snap with a girlfriend, laughs out loud at our little conversation.

“Don’t let James hear you talking about sex,” She doesn’t even flinch at the word. “He’s been sneaking off twice a day to meet a certain charming blonde airhead.” 

“Really?” Al looks interested. “He’s stuck with her longer than usual.”

“The usual being approximately two hours, you mean?” 

“Yeah, that. Well – I guess she is pretty good-looking.”

“Pfft!” Fred scoffs. “She’s well fit, you mean! If James wasn’t…” He trails off, dreaming.

“You can dream on,” Lily gives him an exasperated look. “As if she’d date a sixth year, and moreover as if she’d date you!”

At this, Fred sticks his tongue out at his little cousin, and points his wand at the cards so they all explode at once.

“Idiot.” She says, not too crossly. Her friend laughs, tossing her hair back, and looking directly at Fred. It doesn’t take long to work out why – with his mum’s dark skin and tight curls and his dad’s eyes and temperament, I reckon he seems quite a catch for the girls. Lily just shakes her head, and I wonder how long she’s been putting up with her friends crushing on her cousins and brothers.

“So, Dom?” I try to bring the conversation back on track. “My question?”

“Hit me with it,” She says tiredly. I slide down off the sofa onto the floor, and lean to whisper in her ear.

“I’ve asked Aria to Hogsmeade,” I start, “And I said we’d go to Madam Puddifoot’s – I’ve booked it, in fact. I was thinking that’s what girls like, you know, for dates?” I leave it there, and wait for her reply.

“But now you’re not sure if it’s too cheesy or unoriginal or if she actually hates it?” Dom sums up, quite perceptively.

“Yes,” I murmur, relieved. “Yes, that.”

“Well… I’d say, that that’s fine really. Puddifoot’s is a risky choice depending on the girl – I mean, I know I’d hate it there! No offence.” She adds quickly. “But we’re talking about Aria here, and, well, I don’t really know her, but she seems like the perfect type for a place like this, you know?” I nod at her, almost understanding. “And at the end of the day, she’ll be so glad you’ve actually asked her, that she’d happily go to the Shrieking Shack with you, Scorp.” Dom smiles reassuringly.

I give her a quizzical look – for someone that’s only had a couple of conversations with the girl, she’s very knowledgeable about the subject. 

“I heard them.” She admits frankly. “In the girls’ bathrooms - Aria, Bronwyn and Marisa, just before summer. They were saying how fit the two of you – you and Al – had gotten all of a sudden, there was nonsense about a growth spurt and you bulking up a bit, and such. Aria bagsied you then – she told the others in no uncertain terms,” Dom gives a harsh laugh, then her face relaxes and she puts her hand on my arm gently.

“I thought you probably have a right to know. And they’re not the only ones thinking it, either.” Her tone turns much more upbeat as she grins and says, “Shame they don’t know you both have the mental age of a seven year old.”

I give her a poke and she topples over on the carpet. We both laugh, and I feel a lot better about Saturday’s upcoming date.


	6. A Date

On Saturday, I wake up abruptly at 6:48 and can’t get back to sleep. Of course, it is blatantly obvious why. I roll over onto my back and stare stonily at the ceiling of the brown four-poster bed. Today’s the Hogsmeade date. I wish I felt excited, but I don’t. There’s just a very strong sense of dread, and my stomach feels like I’ve just swallowed an angry Venomous Tentacula. This doesn’t bother me too much, however, because I know it’s just the cliché nerves you get before meeting someone you like. It’s not the first time Aria’s brought it out in me, and I’m sure it won’t be the last – but I know once we’re a proper couple it’ll (hopefully?) go away.

Shame there’s no Calming Draughts in the bathroom cupboard, though. Or some Felix Felicis, for that matter.

I debate getting up and dressing - Crabbe and Flint are snoring loudly: Flint is still scowling, even in his sleep. However, it’s Al that worries me the most - he may definitely not be a morning person, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t still a light sleeper. And that combination is, of course, about as fun to wake up as a Basilisk is.

I decide to brave it, as I know I won’t fall back to sleep feeling like this, and I grab the neat pile of clothes from on top of the trunk (organised, right?), heading for our little bathroom. I wash my face, shave, brush my teeth, dress carefully, comb my hair, fluff up my hair, dab on some cologne, brush my teeth again, and leave the bathroom.

In the common room though, I get a shock. I’m not alone. In front of the full-length, serpent-adorned mirror, pinning her wet hair up, stands my date.

“ _Aria_?”

She gives a most unladylike yelp, and dives behind the nearest chair.

“Don’t look, Scorpius! You can’t see me like this, I’m a mess!” she yells in horror from behind it.

“Has…Has something happened? Are you crying?” I ask, confused.

“No!” This is said, if possible, more horrified than the first time. “I’m getting ready! I’m in my pyjamas, I have no make-up on, my hair’s wet!”

“Well, then – I’m sure you still look lovely,” I say, hesitantly. Surely this is a bit of an overreaction? I’ve seen Dom and Rose with no make-up on, or in pyjamas before _loads_ of times.

“No, I don’t! Just get out, please, Scorpius, and I’ll meet you before we leave, like we planned!”

“Um… okay, then. If that’s what you want,” I shrug, and exit the common room. I guess you could say it’s cute she’s making such an effort?

I leave the common room, and head for the Owlery, I’ve not written to Mum and Dad since we came back, and I don’t want them thinking I’ve been corrupted by second-generation Death Eaters or anything.

Aria’s a funny one, really, I think as I walk through the quiet corridors (after all, who’d be up at this ungodly hour on a weekend?). I mean, she must like me a fair bit, to go to all the effort she does sometimes – take today, for example. Yet when I’m with her, she acts so cool and confident, like she’s just along for the ride. If I didn’t know better, I’m not sure I’d have even believed Dom when she told me how Aria’d been crushing for ages. But then, it is Dom, and I am here, about to go on a date with _that girl_. And aside from her mixed messages – I think we can safely say she’s pretty damn near perfect.

The Owlery stinks, I can smell it before I even open the little wooden door.

“Cosmo!” I call loudly, looking up at the hundreds of owl eyes. I like it in here, once you get used to the smell. It’s so bright and airy, and the fluffy birds are sort of comforting, hooting above your head. Cosmo flies down, and I hold my arm out so she can perch on it.

“Atta girl,” I stroke the top of her head, and she gives me an affectionate peck on my hand.

It’s then that I realise I didn’t bring any parchment. Or a quill. Good thing I’m a wizard, then.

I conjure up one sheet and my best quill, and a small rug for good measure, which I throw on the floor and sit on to write. Cosmo settles on the corner of the rug, and I fish out a couple of treats from the pockets of my robes for her.

‘ _Dear Mum and Dad,_ I scribble. _I am still alive and have not been corrupted by Death Eater-kids. (No offence, Dad). School is going good – well, History of Magic is still boring and I’m still improving at Potions. Slughorn sends his regards, Mum._ (Dad doesn’t receive this commendation – the Head of House was never a particular fan of his.) _And Al says hi_. _Quidditch tryouts are next week, you can keep your fingers crossed we both make the team again this year. Draven’s a fair Captain, I think, so we should be okay. Say hi to Gran and Grandfather, and to Hetty – I do miss her pumpkin pies, the House Elves here could take a tip or two!_ I ponder over telling them about the truce (-ish) with Rose, or today’s date with Aria, but I decide to leave it there. I know Mum especially would latch onto the news and there’d be a 20 page inquisition via Cosmo at breakfast tomorrow morning. Also, at least one of those events has a high chance of not lasting the week – I’ll let you guess which. _This one’s for you, Mum – Chang’s finally got married, a bloke named Marcel Culpeper. She told us all she’s keeping her name, though. Thought you’d appreciate the gossip! Anyway, promise I’ll write more often to yous, speak soon! Love, Scorpius’_

Satisfied, I fold the parchment and scribble _Draco & Astoria Malfoy _on the front. I hand it to Cosmo, along with another treat, and she snaps them both up.

“Be nice for you,” I tickle her downy feathers. “You’ve not been on a flight for a while.” She gives me a last peck, and then shoots out the nearest window. Similarly, I make my way out of the Owlery. Surely it must be nearing breakfast now? Or, at least, surely it doesn’t take a girl _that_ long to pin her hair up?

With these thoughts in my head, I reach the Great Hall optimistic. Maybe even Al will be up? I push the door open. And… No. It’s completely empty, bar two first-year Ravenclaws sat with books sprawled over the table and ruffled hair, mugs in hands.

For Merlin’s sake! Next date – I’m definitely taking a sleeping draught and waking up ten minutes before. I plonk down at the Slytherin table and serve myself some eggs and bacon. Well, I may as well have about six courses before Aria turns up – you know, for strength, and all that.

****

“Wow, Aria… you look gorgeous,” I breathe, looking her up and down. Her long hair is newly curly at the tips, she’s wearing a fitted grey dress, and my eyes unashamedly linger on the curves that it clings to. Her boots click on the floor as she flicks her hair, smiles, pleased, and walks over to me.

“Aww, thank you.” she says, with the air of someone who is used to compliments. The Slytherins who’ve since joined me at the table look at her appreciatively, and I even hear a wolf-whistle. It’s not really a surprise, though, is it? I realise suddenly that I’d best get up, as I’m sort of just sat, staring up at her.

“So… um, shall we go then?”

“Yes, let’s.” She says quickly, hooking her arm through mine as we walk out together. I turn back to Al and wave a goodbye. He grins, and gives me a thumbs-up. I squeeze Aria’s arm, tight, there’s an urge to hold onto her, as if she might be snatched away by some better looking guy if I don’t. On the way out, from the corner of my eye I notice James waving madly from the Gryffindor table, his mate Rhys grinning and trying unsuccessfully to pull his arm down. Alec and Victor, on his other side, just stare us out, cold and unblinking. Merlin, they bloody creep me out, those two. Why James isn’t running a mile right now, I have _no_ idea.

As we exit the Entrance Hall I rake my free hand through my hair. It feels messy, I must have been rumpling it when I was concentrating on the letter. I hurriedly try to smooth it, but it’s so wavy and thick I’m getting nowhere. Well – maybe girls like the rugged look?

Filch stands, solitary, outside the castle gates, his big overcoat almost touching the ground. Two scowling third years (from our House, may I add) stand behind him, evidently having been barred from visiting the village.

“No sneaking banned objects out!” He snaps, glaring at us. He checks me first, and I’m uber-polite, setting a good impression today. When we leave the castle at last, we’re the first ones to set off.

“It’s nice this, isn’t it?” I start, looking at her. “Just the two of us, nobody else from school.”

“Don’t get used to it,” she smirks. “The village’ll be taken over in half an hour, or so.”

“Yeah, I guess. So, I booked Madam Puddifoot’s for eleven, does that sound okay?”

“Sounds great, Scorpius.”

“And…” I check my watch. “It’s just gone ten. What do you fancy doing till then?”

“I don’t mind, babe. Whatever you fancy,” she trills, smiling at me.

“Um, well – Honeydukes? Madam Malkins? Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes?” 

“You’ve not been out with anyone before, have you?” Bit of an odd response to my question, but I let it go. It’s barely even a question really – she already knows the answer.

“Not like, _dating_ , no,” I say, almost reluctantly. “I mean, there’s been girls – but you’re the first I’ve asked out, yes.” I look at my shoes as we turn onto the bustling High Street.

“Well,” she nudges me in the side with her elbow. “I’m honoured to be the first on a date with the infamous Scorpius Malfoy.”

I laugh, although it feels a little false. Infamous? What’s she expecting, bloody James Potter? I’d better flipping aim to impress then.

We spend a chill hour mooching around the village, talking about nothing – I even manage to make her laugh about something, would you believe it? I play the role of supporting (boy?)friend while she chooses some new lilac-coloured robes, and I buy us a big bar of Honeydukes’ finest as an ‘appetiser’ before our lunch. We’re wandering through Permea’s Pet Piazza when she surprises me by bringing up Al.

“How’s that going for him?” She pauses from stroking a particularly ugly Krup, to turn to look at me. “You know, the thing with Lyla?”

“Would we – _would_ we call it a thing?” I scrunch my noise, my voice unnaturally high. “I mean, the short answer is not, like, great.” I draw out the last word. “He likes her a lot – but as you’ve probably guessed with Al, in lower school he didn’t go for girls, like _at all._ They went for him, sure, but he was sick of being hit on just because of his name, and he rebuffed them all. It hurt him a lot, I think, that none of them wanted to actually get to know him for himself – like he wasn’t worth it, you know?” Aria, her hand still absently on the Krup’s little head, is nodding sympathetically.

“So he went all monk-like for a while, and then now with Lyla I think a hefty part of the attraction is that she actually isn’t, well, interested! At least, not in his name. That sounds crazy. And we haven’t talked about it, much, but that’s my guess.” I exhale, out of breath from explaining. “Also, don’t, like, tell him I told you any of this – he’d _kill_ me if he knew you knew.”

“Yeah, yeah of course, I won’t breathe a word,” she smiles a little too widely for my liking though. “Poor thing. It must be hard, only being liked for your family tree.”

“Mm.” I agree. Love life is probably the only thing that’s been difficult for Albus Potter.

****

I hold the door open for Aria as we both walk into the little teashop. The bell rings on the door and I swear about 600 couples’ faces look up to see us come in. I feel my cheeks get hot. Oh Merlin. Kill me now. It looks, from what I can see, like a Pigmy Puff ate a _lot_ of sugared violets, and a large amount of doilies, and then was sick. All over the shop. I don’t think I’ve ever seen more cutesy-ness in my life.

I turn to look at Aria. Her eyes have lit up, and she waves over to Damaris, sat with a Ravenclaw boy at a far table.

“Ooh, where do you want to sit, then?” She’s the most animated I’ve seen her this morning, and I focus determinedly on the fact that I must look like _such_ a good choice if I’ve brought her here on our first date.

“Why don’t you pick?” I smile.

Madam Puddifoot herself comes over to check my booking and hands us menus, and we choose a seat near the window.

“Afternoon tea, is it, dearies?” I glance at Aria, who smiles reassuringly, and I nod. Bit early for it, I had thought, but it seems that every couple in here has a freaking tiered cake stand on their table.

“Isn’t it lovely in here? You know, with the other guys I’ve been out with, I had to nag and hint _so much_ for them to book us a table!” Merlin, _I wonder why_. She reaches over to squeeze my hand. “You know me already, Scorpius!” I smile back. Facing her, it hits me again how gorgeous she is, one hand tangled in her hair while she frowns over the menu, her blue eyes concentrating, her lips pursed. I have a sudden urge to lean across the table and kiss her, but I stifle it.

“I’ll have a Butterbeer, please,” I look up at Madam Puddifoot, and her quill starts to scribble on the parchment hanging in the air. Aria twirls her finger in her hair.

“You know, I… Well I shouldn’t, but - I think I’ll have a hot chocolate, actually! Saturday _is_ cheat day, after all.”

I try to look like this statement makes perfect sense to me, and hand over the money for our drinks. Aria is making frantic hand-signals across the room to Damaris, who’s eyebrows are raised, and is mouthing back just as hurriedly. I clear my throat a little. I am paying for this little luncheon, after all – she’s not on a date with her girlfriends, is she?

“Oh, um yeah,” Aria’s head snaps round. “Wait, what did you say?”

I fight the urge to laugh, or say ‘nothing’. “Um…I just asked what you were thinking of doing after Hogwarts?”

“Oh!” She looks pleased at this topic, and launches into a lengthy explanation of how she’s been offered an unconditional apprenticeship at Gladrags, and wants to train up there as a robe-designer. I take in the scenery in the restaurant. Really, when you’ve got used to it, this place isn’t so bad. I mean, I could do without all the open-mouthed staring faces, and the overdone sickly decoration, but the Butterbeer’s nice. And I _could_ look at Aria all day.   

The food arrives, and we eat for a bit in silence. Well, I eat, Aria chops her food up neatly, and sips her hot chocolate.

“This is nice,” her eyes focus on me, and she smiles, flashing pearly teeth. I feel like there’s some sort of double-meaning here, like I doubt she just means the food.

“Yeah, it’s great.”

“ _So_ …” Her tone is suggestive, and I’m unsure of what she wants me to say.

Then it clicks.

“Oh, um – yes you’re right, it’s been so nice to spend the morning with you,” I say slowly, and probably too formally. “And I was thinking, well _wondering_ really – if… If you’d like to be my girlfriend?” Is that how you ask it? Merlin, I have no clue. There’s the familiar swoop in my stomach that feels like I’ve just walked through the Bloody Baron. I wait, on tenterhooks for her reply, and hope I haven’t crazily misjudged things.

“Oh, _yes!”_ She positively glows. “I’ve been hoping you’d ask me that. I think we’ll make a great couple, babe,” she takes my hand again, then laughs. “And now you’re mine no other Weas- _girls_ can steal you off me!”

I think I’m in shock. I’ve done it – I’ve actually done it! Forget Marcus Creed, the fittest girl in our year is going out with _me._

Aria’s eyebrows are raised, waiting. She leans towards me an inch and then I understand. Here? In front of Hogwarts’ nosiest gossips? Apparently, yes.

So I stretch across, and press my lips to hers. Bloody hell, that girl can kiss. I try not to think about where her experience has come from, and instead lose myself in the feel of her lips on mine, and how it feels like I’ve been waiting to do this for ages.

Then I remember the rest of the teashop, and how this little development is going to have spread like wildfire by teatime, and I pull back from Aria, my face hot. She looks unperturbed, and just flicks her hair back, as usual, the epitome of cool-girl-ness.

****

I am so ready for bed. I mean – I know that’s like the last thing I should be thinking right now, but today has been a long-ass day. I feel like I’ve played a whole bloody Quidditch match, and I can’t wait to sleep it off. There’s also gonna be the satisfaction of telling Al I HAVE A GIRLFRIEND, but I mean I doubt it’ll come as much of a surprise to anyone by now. In fact, I reckon he probably already knows. 

I head down towards the dungeons, and am just passing the Room of Requirement when I see a flurry of movement in the dark. This strikes me as kinda odd as it’s gotten pretty late – I know this because I spent ages with Aria before she finally went up to her dorm. Everyone should really be in bed by now: I’m sorta just counting on good luck to get me back unseen.

I edge a little closer along the corridor, ready to see a lost first year, or a couple tangled together, making the most of the bit of privacy. I peer into the darkness, and…

“ _Weasley?_ ” I forget to whisper in my shock. Getting a severe case of déjà vu here.

“You’ll have to be specific,” she snaps. “There’s more than one of us with that name. Are you addressing me directly?”

“Sarcasm doesn’t suit you.” I retort, even though it’s actually the contrary. No one does sarcasm like Rose Weasley. I think it’s the shock causing my brain to shut off and my mouth to spout rubbish. She just glares. I notice a dirty-looking piece of parchment in her hands, and how her eyes are slightly red-rimmed. Merlin – I just wanted a good night’s sleep, what did I do in a past life to deserve walking into this on the way back?

“Am I allowed to ask what, exactly, you’re doing here, away from everyone and from Gryffindor tower? Or is that ‘pushing you’, as I recall you described it?” I look down at her.

“Well, I’m gonna guess you’ll press on whatever I say – so we may as well skip the niceties.” Her voice is flat. She looks at the floor, and I try to remember the last time Rose gave into me so easily. Oh wait, that would be _never._

“And in fact,” she carries on, “I could ask you the exact same thing.”

“Oh that’s easy,” I roll my eyes, blasé, and surprise us both by sitting down abruptly, next to her on the little wooden staircase. I feel like I’m doing a lot of this recently? “I was just saying goodnight to Ar-“

“Yes yes, enough said.” She interrupts me, her voice icy. 

Suddenly, the angry feelings I have bubbling constantly under the surface for her seem to just… ebb away. I look at Rose, and for once, there’s no hate there. She looks so unlike her usual fierce, fiery self, and so much smaller and childlike than how I’ve always seen her.

Holy Hippogriffs, this the most shocking development of the day – _pity_ for _Weasley_? What is the world coming to?

I don’t know how to act on this. I mean – there’s a definite screaming urge to run far away from here, before I start proclaiming love for Filch or something – but then there’s a small seed of doubt which says maybe, _maybe,_ there’s more going on with this particular witch than meets the eye, and I should do the right thing and stay.

I let out a long sigh and lean my back on the stairs. Inwardly, I curse a few of the people in my life for this possibly life-threatening decision – Al, for always being a bloody moral role-model, my Mum, for saying I should always check on people who’re upset, my Dad, for not being kind enough to others when he was in my shoes, and Aria – for putting me in such a great mood I start taking pity on arch-enemies.

“So. You wanna talk about it, Weasley?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two big events in this one! I really enjoyed writing this, definitely one of my favourite chapters :) Check next Thursday for no. 7 - L


	7. The Aftermath

For what seems like a millennium, Rose stares at me in absolute disbelief. I feel my stomach drop unpleasantly as I wait for the inevitable upcoming fight. But then, just as abruptly, her face softens, and she cocks an eyebrow at me.

“You’ve changed your tune.” Her voice is quiet, but she can’t quite mask the crack that breaks through it.

I give a half-hearted shrug. “Aria just put me in a good mood, I guess. And, if I recall correctly, didn’t we agree to be civil?”

“Not once did I imagine it’d be _you_ reminding _me_ of that.” Again, her attempt at sarcasm fails when paired with her miserable drooping face.

“Don’t avoid the question.”

“I’m not.”

I give her a look.

“Oh, _fine._ If you have to be so bloody nosy, yes, I am having a pretty shit day.” As if this is taking her a great effort, she clenches her fists and looks down at her knees before carrying on. “Gregory… well, he - ended it. There. It’s said. Feel free to gloat all you like. Or run back to your _girlfriend_ and gossip.”

“Alright, Weasley - we may not see eye to eye – but I’m not that much of a prick. Merlin!” I pause while this revelation sinks in. “I mean, _why?_ You two were all over each other, like, yesterday.” She really must have a low opinion of me to think I’d just run off and make fun of her breakup. Well. Not gonna lie, I probably (definitely) will to Al later – but I wouldn’t bitch about it to anyone else behind her back. Shit, no wonder she looks this awful.

“You know, I’ve been sat here asking myself that _exact_ question.” Her voice is bitter. She stretches her legs out slowly and pushes her toes into the bottom-stair carpet.

In a sudden flash of inspiration, I pull my wand out of my pocket and cast two Disillusionment spells over us – the last thing I need is to be caught breaking _another_ rule. Rose doesn’t even flinch, she just stares into space straight ahead. I look at her more closely and see she has tears threatening to brim over.

“I thought… I thought it was going so well with us. I’d – oh! I’d asked Teddy if we could come and stay with him in the holidays… Even Teddy liked him, and he’s so uptight with guys usually…” Her voice is barely above a whisper now. “He told me he _loved_ me – that can’t just go away, can it? What did I even do wrong?”

What do you even say to that? I’m stumped. So I do the only thing I think of, and put my arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to my chest. I hope against all hope that I haven’t made a terrible mistake this – and for once it seems to be okay. I mean, this is crazy, but it seems like we're both accepting it. She tucks her head on my shoulder, and I feel the brush of her hair tickle my neck. Her skin is warm to touch, and it actually feels weirdly comfortable to be close like this. There’s a long silence, in which neither of us move a muscle.

“It’s not only that,” she carries on after a while, her voice even quieter now. I stay silent. “It’s James too – I’m really worried about him. His friends, if you’d even call them that, they’re seriously evil. They’re bad for him, I know it. He looks so ill and tired all the time, he disappears off for ages, he’s got these huge dark circles –“ she breaks off, her voice cracking, and she buries her face in my shoulder. I can’t tell if she’s crying or not.

I stroke her arm with my hand, rubbing it up and down, soothing. A large part of me is screaming ‘ _what the actual hell is going on someone please tell me why I’m curled up to Weasley like she’s the sister I never had’,_ but I studiously ignore that part and focus on how bad Rose must be feeling right now, instead.

I can’t remember having seen her cry before, ever. We fight a lot, sure, and she was really cut up when her Grandad died, but that just equalled moody and subdued Rose, not utterly dejected and heartbroken Rose like right now. I wonder what Al would do if he were here, or Fred or James. They’d probably be proud – I’m actually not being a prick to her for once, and we’ve gone for almost a solid half hour without screaming.

I don’t know how long we sit like that for. I still don’t speak – I’ve never been much good at words of comfort, and now _probably_ isn’t the best time to have a go. After what feels like a lifetime, or maybe just a few minutes, I lift the Disillusionment charms.

“Um… Rose?” I say quietly, shifting my arm around her to check my watch. “Hey, it’s alright… I think – well, it’s gotten late, and, we should probably – go back to the dorms?”

Rose pulls away from me, slowly, and rubs her sleeve across her eyes. She looks pale and tired, but there’s no tears there anymore.

I stand up from the stairs and stretch, my back stiff from sitting on the hard floor, and my skin cold from where Rose is no longer resting on me. I offer her a hand up and she takes it, but she lets go straight away, as if it’s a Flobberworm instead of just an extension of my arm. Her eyes don’t meet mine as we start off to the dorms, and I have to say it’s the quietest I've ever seen her.

We reach Gryffindor Tower, and she finally looks up at me.

“Thank you. I… I’m sorry for what’ve said before. What you did was really kind tonight.”

“Er - no worries.”

“But… I think, that, it would be sensible to keep what happened between ourselves. No one else really needs to know,” she tips her messy curls over her face and looks at the floor. “I think it’d be for the best.”

“So – what you’re saying is – that this was just a small detour to a weird parallel universe, and tomorrow we’ll be back at each other’s throats like normal?” I summarise.

She rolls her eyes heavily, a tiny gesture that shows more of her old self.

“Civil. Tomorrow we’ll be back to being _civil_.” Yeah, well same difference, Weasley.

“Okay.”

Rose looks up. Her mouth opens, as if she’s about to say something else, and she makes the tiniest movement towards me. Then she freezes, spins on her heels and disappears through the portrait-hole. Well, good. That’s enough weirdness for one day.

****

Needless to say, it's not the best night of sleep I've ever had. The whole thing with Rose buzzes around in my head and I toss and turn for what feels like all night.

The moment the first rays of sun hit the window, I’m up and in the shower. I can’t think of a better way to clear my head, and the steady stream of water is hot and calming. I only feel stressed again when Flint hammers on the little bathroom door and yells that he’ll curse me into next week if I don’t come out _right this second._ It’s lovely to have such supporting dorm mates, isn’t it?

As Al and I walk to Charms, there’s a distinctly awkward feeling in the air. I managed to avoid his eye at breakfast – I sat next to Aria as usual, and she introduced me to Damaris and Marisa as her _boyfriend_ , at which point Al barely even glanced up. You’d think he’d be a little bit interested as to what I was doing around the castle till 12 at night, and whether I scored any action with my new girl, but apparently not. In some ways that’s good – I’m shocking at keeping secrets, and if he asked I feel as though I’d just blurt all last night’s craziness out.

So anyway, as we traipse up to the second floor, I sneak a sideways glance at my mate. I really don’t want to let anything slip about You-Know-What, but I’m really struggling to act normal. I keep thinking – is this how I usually talk – is my voice too high – do we usually go this long in silence?

“Aargh!” I drop my bag on the floor and turn to face Al.

“What?” He looks at me in utter confusion.

“You’ve been being really weird with me all morning and I don’t know why! I can’t hold it in any longer!” I let out a heavy breath. That feels a bit better.

“Um, no I haven’t! You’re the one that won’t talk, actually,” he frowns.

“ _You_ were ignoring _me!”_ I ignore the fact that this makes me sound like a petulant child. “Don’t you even want to know about Aria?” I feel it would be pushing it to say _my girlfriend._

“Sure.” Al says flatly. “Tell away.”

“Al. Mate. What is with you? You’re never like this.”

“I think we’re holding up a queue. Can we not have this conversation after Charms?”

“Let’s walk and talk then.” I retort, rolling my eyes and picking up my bag.

Al sighs moodily. As long as we carry on in this vein and focus on whatever is freaking bothering him, I might get away with not mentioning a certain Weasley cousin. We’re at the door to the classroom when he stops and sighs at me.

“Alright. I’ll tell you. But you can’t laugh… or, or make any comments! In fact – you can’t say anything until this class is over.” Al is using his ‘resigned’ voice, the tone he uses when ‘ _I think you’re chatting actual shit and you are getting on my last nerve but I will remember I’m Harry Potter’s son so I am going to stay patient and release my anger by talking In This Tone_ ’.

I put my hand on my chest and give him my most pious look. “I, Scorpius Malfoy, solemnly swear, that I am NOT up to no good, and whatever dirty secret you have to disclose, I will respect and honour you and it regardless.”

Al just shakes his head in exasperation. “Fine.” He mutters. “You want to know why I’m being ‘weird’, why we haven’t had a proper conversation all morning, why I avoid talking to you and Aria when you’re together?”

 I nod.

Al takes a deep breath. “I’m jealous. Yep. That’s it. That’s the secret. I can’t stand it, that you’ve pulled this fit girl, who dotes on your every word and boasts about her ‘catch’ to her friends behind your back. I hate it that the girl I like won’t even look at me, and yet Aria threw herself at your feet the moment we came back to school. I tried to ignore it – but it’s so bloody unfair! Why is it that girls are only interested in my last name, why can’t they actually bother to get to know me?” He looks down, and ruffles his already-messy hair despondently.

I open my mouth to speak, but Al cuts me off. “No, don’t say anything. You agreed, remember?” And darts to his seat inside the class.

Well. I was not expecting that.

****

I barely concentrate in Charms. I keep trying to talk to Al throughout the class, but he just keeps turning to Damaris on the other side of him and making conversation about the upcoming Quidditch tryouts. As soon as the lesson finishes, I pounce.

“Albus Severus Potter, do not ignore me any longer!” I yell this as soon as he steps out into the corridor.

Al puts his hands up in surrender and ushers me to carry on walking. “Okay, okay! It was only because I didn’t want everyone to overhear. Go on then – feel free to scream at me.”

“ _Scream_ at you?” What? I don’t feel mad at Al in the slightest, really. He should be mad at me really, for sneaking around with his cousin and then lying to him. Whoops, better not say _that_.

“Yeah, aren’t you pissed?” Al questions.

“Not… really? I mean, you could have told me straight away, rather than avoiding me. But – oh, to hell with this! I’ve enough bloody talking about my feelings for one week. Mates, yeah?”

“Course.”

“Well then, I’ll limit my time with Aria when you’re around, and we’ll talk about her less. You can try your best not to get so green-eyed, and then by James’ birthday I'm sure  you’ll have a girl of your own to moon over.”

Al looks very taken aback that I’m not yelling my head off at him, and nods, grateful.

“I take it a certain girlfriend of yours has been very into describing her feelings recently?”

Oh Al, if only you knew who it really was talking about their feelings.

“I thought we weren’t talking about it!” I point out hastily. (I am _terrible_ at blabbing secrets.)

“Of course, of course. That’s a yes, though, isn’t it?” He smirks. I punch him on the arm.

“Let’s just stick with that I’d be very happy to communicate in monosyllables to girls from now on – and vice-versa.” I say.

“If only.” Al agrees. “Unfortunately, most of the birds here have always had far too much to say for themselves.”

“You said it, mate.”

****

The days before the Quidditch tryouts pass in a blur – they say time flies when you’re having fun, and I certainly am with a new girlfriend entering the potion. However, with Aria dragging me off whenever possible to the Room of Requirement or to little nooks and crannies for a quick snog, or just to sit and talk; _and_ with all the work I have piling up, there’s been hardly any time left to practice Quidditch. I’ve also been trying to be a good mate and not ditch Al, and on top of all that, I haven’t spoken to Rose since That Night. The whole situation is just too bloody awkward for my liking. Now, like it’s crept up on us, it’s time.

“Right, everyone for the Slytherin tryouts please make your way to the pitch!” Draven’s loud voice, magically magnified, sounds out over the hall. The rest of the tables glance up from their dinner, but it’s only our House that pays real notice.

“Shit.” Al has gone very pale. Damaris, next to him, downs her pumpkin juice in one gulp, and swipes the back of her hand across her mouth. She’s the first to stand up, determined. Then Jett and Alexis from the year above start to make a move, and the younger students, leave the table. It’s just Flint, Al and I left now.

Al is frozen in his seat. “Come on.” I mutter. “We don’t want to be last.” I give a pointed look to Flint, who’s shovelling in the last mouthfuls of his steak pie.

“Al!” He jerks out of it, and stands up from the bench.

“Good luck, babe!” Aria smiles, and leans over the table to kiss me full on the mouth. I’m sorta shocked, but pleased. We don’t usually do full-on displays of affection – what with all the gossip that’s surrounding us anyway. I kiss her back, feeling a bit better. Nothing like a good snog to get the adrenaline pumping.

Al and I leave the Hall subdued. My hands are shaking and I stuff them into the pockets of my Quidditch robes. As we pass the Gryffindor table, there’s a chorus of whoops and cheers from the gang. Thea swivels in her seat and hugs us both quickly. Freddie stands up and yells “BREAK YOUR LEGS!” (I don’t think he fully understands that saying, but you know, it’s the thought that counts.)

James pumps his fist in the air, his mouth full of mash, cheeks bursting. He motions to it, emphasising he _would_ speak, if he could _._ Dom and Dax are the last to wish us good luck before we go through the doors. As we pass Rose, I look at the floor again, and think of all the Quidditch knowledge I can recall as to block out unwanted thoughts.

Finally, we’re on the pitch – the rest of them are lined up, ready to try out, and Al and I join the back of the queue. The sun is low in the sky, casting a warm glow over the golden hoops. They suddenly look much huger than last time we practised. I gulp, swallowing nerves. My stomach feels like lead. Al doesn’t look much better.

“You said we’d be fine, remember? You said there’s absolutely no reason why Draven wouldn’t pick us again this year?” I’m aware my tone is accusing, but I can’t help it.

“I stick by that.” He says, trying to comfort himself more than me, I think.

“Right!” Draven’s booming voice sounds out. “Quiet, everyone! I want Chasers and Keepers in a line here, you can go first, in pairs, and then Beaters and Seekers on this side. You’ll be going second.”

I give Al a pat on the shoulder for good luck, then join the first line. There’s a couple of people in front, and a few more behind me – so working it out, I’ll be paired with… Alexis Montel. Well, I’ll take that, to be fair. Montel is an alright sort really, for a seventh year. And not a bad Keeper, either, so Draven will appreciate it if I score well against her.

“Chasers! You’ll have four shots against your respective Keepers. Naturally, whoever scores best will be chosen. If it comes to a tie, I’ll sort a tiebreaker. Keepers, same goes for you. Try and block their shots, and whoever does the best, in my opinion, will be on the team. I know some of you have been on the team before, but this year _as I am Captain_ , we’ll be starting afresh. On that note, any backchat or arguing with me – you’ll be out. That clear? Good. First pair, mount your brooms, please!”

Tulsa and Gareth take their places on the pitch. I watch them like a Hippogriff, a bundle of nerves, hoping for Gareth to be awful and Tulsa to be amazing. It seems Merlin is looking down on me, though, because he only manages to score two out of four shots – it must be horrible to go first.

Then it’s our go. Come on, Scorp. I think. You’ve got this.

As I fly up, I spot Al giving me the thumbs up from below. And… there’s someone watching from the stands, too – edging across in the same way we’re arriving at our turn. Red hair – a Weasley. I squint my eyes harder, and - no. It can’t be. Bloody hell, what is she doing here? Would even I make this much trouble? No. But of course, the girl in the stands is Rose Weasley.

I look down at her, and she looks up at me, and for a second I think my eyes are deceiving me, but no, she clearly mouths ‘ _good luck, Scorpius’,_ and she even shoots me a little thumbs-up, from down in the seats. Then she grins at me, and sits down, obviously going to watch me (and Al, of course) try out.

There’s no time to think about this odd behaviour, however – I’ve dawdled for about a minute, and Draven is gesticulating wildly for me to go from his perch above the pitch. What is amazing me the most right now, though, is that Rose’s appearance _has_ had a calming effect, and I’m so ready to score all four of these shots.

Draven tosses the Quaffle to me from his own broom, and I turn to face Montel, who’s hovering in front of the hoops. I swerve right, holding the ball, and fake leaning for a shot. As hoped, Montel mimics me, and I hurl the ball at the far left hoop instead. Yes! One out of four scored.

Next I aim for the middle hoop, throwing the Quaffle up over her head, and… it shoots straight through. Come on – two more now. Amazingly, I don’t miss any shots: one skims Alexis’ fingers, but squeezes in, and with the last I opt for the feinting tactic again.

Surely, surely, this has to guarantee me a place? Four out of four shots? I fly down to sit inside the changing rooms with the others who’ve finished. We wait anxiously for the tryouts to be over, listening to the shouts from outside.

The sun has set now, and the sky’s an inky blue. I try to ignore the weird appearance of Rose – the fact that she could have just turned up for her cousin and ignored me completely, but she didn’t. Thinking of this, I cross my fingers for Al as they move onto the Seekers. Finally, Draven comes into the changing room, and there’s a collective intake of breath from everyone around.

“Right – I’ll cut to the chase.” He looks at us sternly. “You all did great, but I can only choose the best, so, the team this year is going to be... Beaters: Finworth Hitch and Jett Gauge. Keeper: Tulsa Edens. Chasers:-” I clench my fists. Please, I pray to Merlin, let me be in. “Of course it’s me," Draven grins, "and then Damaris Keat, and Scorpius Malfoy.” YES YES YES THANK YOU MERLIN! “Seeker: Albus Potter.” We’ve done it! We’ve both done it! I lock eyes with Al and we both bask in the triumph. _Phew_.

And, I guess, (only time you’ll hear this) – thank you, Rose.


	8. A New Arrival and Party Planning

In Potions the day after though, things _really_ start get interesting. After Al and I have gloated our heads off about Quidditch, the conversation moves onto new topics. Of course, this is the only lesson we share with Gryffindor, so the lot of us sit at the back of the class and squeeze in as many whispered conversations as we can.

I share a desk with Al; Dom and Rose are in front; and Dax and Fred are to the left. Thea, however, the poor thing, has been relegated to sit with Ed Warweck, another guy from Dax and Fred’s dorm. He’s an actual nightmare, very pompous and Percy-ish – and the girls pulled straws a few weeks ago, and she lost. (Personally, I reckon she’s still bitter about it.)

“Oi, Al. Psst.” Dom twists round in her chair. “Remember that conversation we had in Intervention the other week?”

“Which one? There were a few.”

“About the new girl!”

“Oh, yeah, that. What was her name again?”

Dom sighs, like it’s a great inconvenience for her to have to inform us.

“Claudette, Claudette Charpente.”

“Yeah?” I’m getting a _little_ vibe that Al is not very interested.

“Well, she arrived today! At breakfast, she-“

Dax leans over and interrupts her. “And oh Merlin, she is _hot_! Like, not your regular blonde flirty-nice-figure hot: she’s got like this auburny-reddy hair, it’s all thick and different lengths–“

“- _Layered_ I think is what you mean.” Dom snaps. “She is pretty, I’m not gonna lie –“

“- And her _eyes_ – they’re so dark and like, mysterious –“

“- Yeah, she is one _fit_ bird –“  Fred agrees, his eyes dreamy.

“Okay, okay! We don’t give one if you two uncivilised goblins have the hots for this girl or not! The point is, and I’m not one to stereotype, but she seems like a right bitc-“

“- _Dominique_!” Rose cuts in sharply. “You don’t even know her, honestly!”

“Well, I know what she said to Marie this morning, when she arrived!” Marie Thorp is the fifth girl in their dorm, a bit nerdy and a bit quiet, but her heart’s in the right place. “So, she was coming up the steps with all her suitcases, and Marie was walking out to COMC, and she was like, ‘oh, hey, you must be new? Can I give you a hand? Do you need escorting to McGonagall?’ And this girl gives her the _dirtiest_ look, Marie said, and then goes, in this catty little French accent: ‘’ _oh, non, what ees zis?_ Ohh, _she_ thinks that _she_ can speak to me now, does she? Urghh, _mais non!_ ’’ and in _that_ voice!” Dom shakes her head in utter disgust at how Marie was spoken to. I don’t want to be the one to remind her of how she was slating Marie to us the other day when she wouldn’t come to Hogsmeade with her, Tess and Thea.

Whilst we’ve been talking, Slughorn has waddled in, and now stands at the front, looking less than pleased with our little discussion.

“Now, now, Dominique! That sounds like a fascinating story, but could it _possibly_ wait till after my class is over? Or else you can retell it in detention.”

Dom nods meekly, and folds her arms, glancing at us to say ‘this conversation isn’t over’.

“So, sixth years, today we are going to be making the Draught of Peace. Whoever gains top marks will be exempted from next week’s essay on sleeping potions, and will automatically score an E on this week’s practical assessment. No more talking is necessary!” Slughorn gives a lazy flick of his wand, and the instructions appear in his chunky handwriting on the blackboard. Well. That’s the end of _that._

****

At lunchtime, I gain my first impression of the infamous Claudette. It starts when I take my usual seat next to Aria and she rounds on me, unlike her usual self.

“Not got anything to say to me, have you, Scorpius?” Her pretty face twists into a frown.

“Um, what? Did I do something?” I mean, we all knew it wouldn’t be long before she realised I’m not the Bill to her Fleur; but even this is surprisingly soon.

“Yes! I'm supposed to be your _girlfriend,_ yet you, like, don’t even bother to tell me that you got made Chaser again! I mean, I know I’m not a big Quidditch fan, but, like, these things are important now that we’re a couple!” She slams her spoon down in her soup, and drops of orange plop onto the table.

“Oh, I’m really sorry, I just – it didn’t cross my mind, that’s all.” I soothe. “Next time anything like this happens, you’ll be the first I tell.”

“I need to know, you know? Like, this girl from _Hufflepuff_ came over to me and that’s how I find out – what even is that? And, I notice you told all your little Gryffindor friends – that Dominique, _she_ knew, and she’s not even nice! Like, sure, she’s pretty, but her hair’s such an _unusual_ style, and she’s such a loudmouth…” Aria trails off, probably aware she’s talking crap.

“Wait, you don’t – _Dom_? Dominique Weasley? Seriously? I do _not_ have feelings for Dom, eurgh! We are just friends. You’re the only girl I like, promise.” This is the weirdest conversation I've ever had with this girl. “And next time I’ll make sure you’re in the loop.” I kiss the top of her cross little blonde head.

Just as I pick up my spoon, there’s an almighty crash, and the whole table looks up to see the doors of the Hall have been flung open. Two seventh year Hufflepuff boys stand on each side of the doorway, looking out of breath and flustered. Then, a girl breezes in between them.

“Ohh oui, _merci, garçons,_ you may go now,” she trills, her voice throaty and eloquent. Knowing full well she has the attention of the whole Hall, the girl I'm assuming is Claudette flips her auburn hair over her shoulder, and struts through to the tables. Her chin is in the air, and she shakes her head a little so her hair arranges itself, falling neatly down her back. Then she stops, in the gap between Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw.

“Ah, but where should I seeet? Monsieur?” She turns to a boy at the Ravenclaw table, stretching out her hand, which he kisses, looking dreamy. “Ah, bon.” She makes a little gesture with her hand, and they all shift down the row for her. I look at Al, opposite, his mouth has dropped open in a wide O. Similar to the expressions of our friends at Gryffindor, it seems. Aria, however, huffs, turns back to her soup and carries on eating.

I know someone who’ll be glad about this turn of events though. Rose. Dom and Thea have been shielding her between classes so she doesn’t have to face her ex-beau head-on, but at fleeting moments I sometimes get a glimpse of her sad eyes. At least there’s something else for the school to talk about this lunchtime.

Just as Claudette is perching herself primly next to the Ravenclaw boy, there’s a sudden shout from across the room. You guessed it. James.

“Hey! You don’t want to sit with _them_! Whatever they’ve got, we'll do it better. Come and sit at Gryffindor, _Mademoiselle Charpente_.” All the heads that were looking in Claudette’s direction, flip and stare at him instead. Lily tugs on her brother’s shirt, but James shakes her off.

Well, all I’ll say is his French accent really is _choquant._ Claudette gives him what can only be described as the filthiest of filthy looks, flips her hair back, and sits down regardless on the Ravenclaw bench.

At this, McGonagall looks murderous, and stands up stiffly from the teachers’ table.

“Really, what is this? I will not have you behaving like wild animals at the dinner table! Everyone who is stood up, _sit down_ ,” (At this, I see Fred out of the corner of my eye mouthing ‘including you, Professor?’ and I try not to laugh.) “- And we will eat the rest of the meal like normal human beings!”

She doesn’t lose her rag very often, McGonagall, and I get the strong feeling this is about more than James and Claudette’s shows of behaviour. Maybe she’s jealous she was never that pretty.

 I mention this to Al after all the excitement has died down. He disagrees with me.

“I don’t reckon it’s that petty, you know.” He muses. “I bet she just sees right through that girl. She’s not one for show-offs, _I_ think. And that Claudette is the epitome of one.”

“You mean Claudette isn’t gonna replace Lyla as the Dream Girl?” I pull my best horrified face.

“Pfft.” Al waves a dismissive hand. “You know I’m not one for the Queen Bee types.”

“True… And, I hate to say it, but, I reckon Dom had it bang-on. James is gonna fall hard for this one.”

“Well. That’ll be a first. He just keeps them for a bit of light entertainment.”

“I feel for Serenity!”

“Ah, the poor girl. Though, by now, she’s probably long gone anyway. Speaking of my dear brother, it’s not long till his birthday, so _really,_ we should get party-planning.”

“Al! You sound like a six year old girl,” I reproach.

“Oi, I like planning parties I’ll have you know! If I was a Muggle, I could be a – whatchamacallit? We did it with Abbott.”

“An events manager.”

“Yeah, that!”

I roll my eyes. “Of course, I forgot you’re a man of many talents, Mr Potter.”

****

So that evening, we pack our essays and textbooks, and depart to Gryffindor common room. I promise Aria I’m _not_ secretly meeting Dom, and kiss her as I leave. Al tuts and disappears up the staircase, but I stand outside the doorway, and loop my arms round her waist, pressing my lips to hers.

“I’m glad you’re my boyfriend, Scorpius,” she whispers, her hands in my hair.

“Me too.” I pat her back gently, which is actually just a stream of blonde hair, and extract myself. “I’ve got to go, but I’ll see you in the morning.”

She pouts. “I don’t know why you bother! Surely it’s enough here...?”

“Yeah, but they’re my friends, too. And we’re planning James’ party! I’ll make sure you get an invite.” I stretch up and kiss her cheek. Her frown lessens – anyone who’s anyone is thrilled to get an invite to the infamous Potter/Weasley parties.

Last year, at Roxanne’s, we converted their common room, Fred managed to secure a whole trunk of Firewhiskey from his Dad’s shop, and McGonagall burst in at quarter to five, in a nightgown, and screamed the place down, threatening letters home to parents. That was probably one of the worse times she’s lost it. Scary woman, I’ve said it before. Legendary sesh, though.

I run up the stairs to catch Al up. He grins when he sees me.

“I thought I’d lost you to the world of girls, then.”

“Oi! I’m offended you think I’m that bad a mate!” He raises his eyebrows.

“She really dislikes our group, doesn’t she? Merlin.”

“Hmm. I think she’s just jealous I don’t wanna be with her twenty four seven?”

“Yeah, she definitely sounds like she feels left out.”

“It’s something she can never really be, though, isn’t it?” I try to explain. “Like her, vs our group, they’re just so different. And I try to include her, but we all sorta… don’t _mesh._ So I think the only way for her to look at it is with dislike, you know?”

“Mm. Maybe she’s insecure. I mean, in their way, the girls _are_ pretty.”

“True. If you were to look at it like that.”

“Which she does, obviously. Oh well, I guess it'll even out, in time.”

We lapse into quiet for the rest of the way. Al’s quite a wise one, when he wants to be, and I mull over what he’s said about Aria. She’d be just the type to hide insecurity as dislike.

“Gobstones.” Al gives the password, and the Fat Lady swings open for us.

It seems, however, we’ve walked into a major row. Lily, her face screwed into a scowl, is standing opposite James, who’s shouting so loud I’m shocked as to why we couldn’t hear it from our own common room.

“ _Give over,_ Lily! I really couldn’t care less!!”

“Well you _should!_ I’m not the only one thinking it! Just tell us the truth!”

“No! There’s nothing to _tell!_ Stop _meddling_ in things that have nothing to do with you!”

“It has everything to do with me!” She puts her hands on her hips.

“Bloody hell, Lily, if you were older you’d be hearing worse language than this! I’m going to meet Vivienne, and that is the only thing that I am doing!” He roars.

“Fine. _Fine!_ Lie all you want, James. We’re only trying to help; we’re your _family._ You’re just doing this to yourself.”

Al and I stand very still in the doorway. This isn’t the first inter-family spat I've witnessed - it doesn’t take Nicolas Flamel to see that these lot are a fiery bunch. James turns on the spot as he sees us.

“And what are you doing here, Al? Has our dear little sister reeled you in to come tell me off too? Gonna ban me from leaving the common room, are you?” He shoots furious glares at Lily and then Al.

“No.” Al walks over to the sofas, where the rest of the bunch are sat. “We came to help plan your party, actually. Like, you know, we help do _every year.”_

“Huh!” James scoffs. “I’m gonna be eighteen, I don’t think I need my kid brother and his mates to plan my own party!”

No one says anything, and there’s a few moments of charged silence. James runs his hands manically through his messy hair. He sighs.

“Look, I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have said that,” he pauses, taps his foot on the floor. “I still need to go out though – to meet Vivienne. But you guys can plan for me, yeah? We’ll have it on the first of November, like usual.”

Al nods: he forgives the easiest. Lily, on the other hand, flicks her hair over her shoulder and stalks off back to her girlfriends.

“Ask Alec and Victor, they’re my mates, they’ll help.” James says confidently.

Fred, Rose and Dom stare at him as if to say ‘you think we don’t _already know_ who you’re friends with?’ and Alec and Victor look over at us all, glaring, as if to say ‘just _try_ asking us for help.’

“Bring lots of alcohol!” James calls over his shoulder, oblivious, as he leaves the common room.

Al and I go and sit down with the others.

“Well.” Rose looks up from her Charms essay. “I think someone woke up on the wrong side of bed this morning.”

I get ready to retaliate, surely it’s unreasonable for her to start on me _already?_ I open my mouth, but -

“Not you, Malfoy, I was on about our lovely-tempered cousin.”

“Oh. Right.” I feel my cheeks grow hot. “Yeah, he is in an odd mood today.”

Rose’s eyes twinkle as she sees my embarrassment. She helps me out though, probably as a payback for That Night.

“It’s not just today,” she sighs. “He’s been touchy and odd like this for a while now.”

“It’s getting bad though, isn’t it?” Thea questions. “I mean, no one can be meeting girls the amount he does, surely?”

Dax and Fred exchange looks. “Oh yes.” Fred grins. “You could definitely meet girls that much.” Abashed by Dom’s glare, he looks a bit sheepish. “But, yeah Thea, I see where you’re coming from, course, it’s weird behaviour, yep.”

“It is _James,_ though, isn’t it?” Dax chips in. “Like I know he’s not my relation, but he’s probably just, you know, being _him_ – I’m sure he’ll be back to normal by next week.”

“True.” Al agrees. “He’s never been one for following rules – or telling us what he’s up to.”

“Then we may as well forget about it.” Fred says. “We’ll find out out of the blue one day when he wants someone to brag to.”

The girls look unconvinced, but no one else says anything.

I can’t help but think about what Rose said That Night, and about how worried she was about her cousin. Though surely that was just an emotional breakdown thingy, and in the light of day she’ll just see it’s James being James?

For a millisecond, so quick I’m not even sure it’s happened, our eyes meet. I look into her big brown ones, and she looks into mine, and an unspoken agreement is made – that yes, I remember our conversation, and yes, we’ll both keep a watch on this.

“So.” Dom claps her hands together. “Themes?”

“Ooh,” Thea brightens. “Let’s get our wands out and do options.”

I try not to roll my eyes, and instead reach for the work Al and I brought. He, however, moves in closer to the girls. I sit back next to Dax and Fred, the former who is building a pyramid with Exploding Snap Cards, and the latter who is shining his Beater’s bat.

It goes quieter after that. The girls’ and Al’s chatter fills the room with background noise, and there’s the occasional explosion from Dax’s cards, or the sound of Fred interfering with my essay.

“Right.” Dom raises her voice after maybe half an hour. When no one looks up: “Boys! List-en!”

Fred looks up. “The question is, Dominique, is this _really_ need-to-know information?”

“ _Yes._ ” Thea is definite. “We’ve skipped all the boring bits out.”

“We were thinking,” Rose cuts in, “That we’ll have it in the Room of Requirement this year, and the theme will be…” she pauses (I think for effect), and Dom finishes her sentence.

“1920s! You know - like, glamour, gangsters, cocktails, and we’ll have a black and gold colour scheme! Because it’s sort of joint with Halloween, isn’t it?”

I don’t think they get the desired reaction. Dax wrinkles his nose, Fred questions ‘do we really need a specific theme?’ (Many eye-rolls follow this) and I say,

“Isn’t that, like, a bit – Muggle?”

“No! James will like it.” Al defends fiercely.

“Okay, okay.” I put my hands up in defeat. “So you want us all dressed like… what, exactly?”

Rose looks like she’s trying hard not to roll her eyes. “Boys can wear dress robes, or tuxes, and the girls,” Thea breaks in with a giggle, “We’ll wear slinky ball gowns!”

“Well, if you say so.” Dax shrugs, looking at me and Fred, bemused. “I’m down for whatever.”

Fred and I agree. We spend the next half hour dealing out jobs: like last year, Fred is on alcohol, Dax and I are on food, Dom is on invites, Thea and Rose are on decorations, and Al is on all the little things everyone else forgets, like music, and a place to put the gifts, and keeping the people we don’t want in, out.

By the end of the night, the whole lot of us are thoroughly convinced James’ eighteenth will be the best party Hogwarts has ever seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Claudette arrives! In a weird way, I really like her character, even though she seems annoying - so far she's been so fun to write :) Chapter 9 up next Thurs - L


	9. An Unnerving Development

The next week, as predicted, the school is buzzing about the upcoming party. Dom, quick off the mark with her invites, has charmed paper aeroplanes to fly to each recipient, spelling their name, time, date, location, and a password to get in. Oh, and the theme, of course. Already this morning I’ve heard at least six different groups of girls planning their outfits and dreaming about whether they’ll manage to pull the ‘gorgeous’ James Potter.

Who I really want to know about, though, is Claudette. I wonder if Dom’s thought to send her an invitation. Probably; seen as she was the one to predict James’ interest in the first place. Will she come, though? I hope so, I’d love to see James’ reaction as he tries to impress probably the only girl who isn’t actually falling head-over-Hippogriff for him.

The girls of Hogwarts aren’t the only people in a good mood either – Al is exceptionally cheery, he’s upbeat about winning Lyla over next week. And all has been forgiven with my girlfriend, who (I won’t say I told you so) is thrilled to be invited to her first Potter/Weasley bash.

“Scorpius!” she trills, after waiting for me to come out from Muggles Studies. “Let’s go for a walk, shall we? It’s an unusually nice day.” She swaps her bag between shoulders and takes my hand.

“Sure,” I agree. “Round the lake?” We start down towards the doors.

She gives a little laugh. “Bit cliché, do you not think? No, let’s go up over the hill, and past Hagrid’s hut.”

“You want to see Hagrid?” Aria is about the last person I’d expect to be on close terms with the gamekeeper, but you know, whatever floats your boat. “Yeah, I’ve not seen him in ages either, what with Al and everything… In fact, not since last summer, when I went with –“

“No, Scorpius, let me finish, please. What I meant was, the view of the castle is nice there, and it’s a particularly sunny spot.” She does that laugh again. “Hagrid? Really? No, I’ve never much liked that oaf,” she shakes her head.

“Oh. Right. Um, okay.” I guess I did jump to conclusions there - I mean, Al himself is proof not everyone likes our COMC teacher.

We get to the spot, and Aria finds a little dry patch to perch. I stretch my arm round her, but she doesn’t lean into me like usual. Instead, she tosses her hair back, and sits stiffly.

“Don’t, babe, you’ll mess up my hair.” she snaps.

“Oh, I don’t mind your messy hair, you always look pretty anyway.”

“Thank you, but it’s only fourth period, and there’s lots of other people who are going to see me.”

There’s something a bit odd about this. She’s never _usually_ this uptight… Wait. I twist behind me, to see the huge glass window on the Transfiguration corridor is directly behind us, and – yep. There’s a rather large group of fourth year girls gathered in front of it, swooning.

“Aria!” I give look towards the window.

“What?” She’s defensive, but a blush creeps into her cheeks.

“You only wanted to come here so everyone could see us!”

“No, I – um…”

“That’s so shallow! Is this the only reason that we’re dating?”

“I just – look, it’s been a whole month now, and we barely go out together, or like show off – “

“Show off?” I repeat incredulously. “I thought you _wanted_ to keep it quiet?”

“No! I thought _you_ did!”

“I don’t really care either way…” My voice is quieter now, calmer.

“I just, we, we make a really good couple, Scorpius! I just want to make the most of it.”

“Okay. Okay.” I run a hand through my hair, irritated. “But no more of this, yeah? If you want to ‘show off’, I mean, I don’t condone it, but, if that’s what you want, then just ask, yeah? I can do showing off.”

And with that, I lean forward, closing the gap between us, and kiss her full on the mouth, pulling her body close to mine. She makes a pleased little noise, and takes my face in her palms, kissing me back just as hard. Well. Brownie points to me: 100.

****

“ _Mais,_ je ne – I do not want to have class with lez _Slytherins!_ I am perrrfectly happy with my Ravenclaw friends! S'il vous plait, _please,_ Madame McGonagall!

“How many times, Miss Charpente – it is _Professor._ And as I have told you, you will spend one lesson with each House, for your first week. Then you may choose as you wish which one to stay with. Go on in, please.”

“But, they are not even my _age!_ Zey are leetle!”

“Go inside the class, Miss Charpente. We have had enough of your attention-seeking behaviour for one day.”

The door to History of Magic swings open and bangs against the wall. Claudette flounces in, unaware that we heard her whole outburst. She flings her bag on the floor and reluctantly takes a free seat at the back. I see her give a furious eye-roll in McGonagall’s direction before she herself enters the class.

“Afternoon, Professor Binns. I would like to introduce you to Miss Charpente, if the two of you haven’t met already,” Claudette folds her arms and looks pointedly at the ceiling. “She will be joining your class,” McGonagall carries on, ignoring her, “for the next week whilst she acquaints herself with how things _work_ here at Hogwarts.”

Binns tries and fails to smile reassuringly at his newest student. McGonagall nods sharply, pushes her glasses up her nose, and departs.

I shoot a dark look at Al, and he raises his eyebrows at me. I incline my head in Flint and Crabbe’s direction, who are both eyeing up the latest addition, drooling. Al shakes his head, and we both share in our disgust of our fellow dorm mates.

Al starts to doodle on the edge of his parchment, and I look at Claudette out of the corner of my eye.

She shakes her thick auburn hair over the back of the chair, so that the sunlight from the window falls on it. Her long manicured nails tap impatiently on the wooden desk, and she stretches her feet out underneath it – the skirt under her robes riding dangerously up her tan thighs.

I think she notices me looking, though, because she turns her head in my direction, glaring at me with her big blue eyes.

I glare back. It’s not like I’m not hitting on her or anything – one, I have a girlfriend, and two, you’re perfectly entitled to look at a new student: it’s simple curiosity. Then, her stare softens.

“Ooh, you ees _très_ hot.” She mouths, giving me an appraising once-over.

“Um… I have a girlfriend.” I mouth, shocked.

“Eet was just an obserrvation.” She replies, and turns back to the front.

Well, that was weird. Probably best not to mention it to Al, I don’t want to seem like I'm rubbing it in his face. Or James, for that matter. And Aria, well _that_ goes without saying. I firmly keep my eyes trained on Binns for the rest of the lesson, which is no easy feat due to the fact he’s about as interesting as an empty Butterbeer glass. And the lesson, on the immigration of the giants to England, isn’t any more riveting.

****

“Bloody hell, I am actually _dead,_ that was a pretty intense session, don’t you think?” I look behind me, as Al and I walk back to the common room from Quidditch practice. Or should I say, _I_ walk back to the common room. Al has disappeared.

“Al? _Al-bus?_ ” No reply. He was here just a second ago! I toss the broom and my gloves on the floor, and turn slowly around, eyes narrowed. I am not in the mood. I’m tired, and my bones feel like lead. I _just_ want to sleep!

“Shhh!”

“Al?” I crane my neck, looking for him. Suddenly, an arm reaches out and grabs me, pulling me behind the giant suit of armour on the corridor.

“Al!”

“ _Shhh!_ Look,” he hisses, his eyebrows raised in shock, as we crouch behind the knight.

I follow his fingertip, and see the door of a vacated classroom ajar. There’s a couple of people inside. Al winks at me, and pulls out a pair of Extendable Ears. What a guy. Don’t understand what we’re listening for, though. I look at Al and he nudges me, as if to say ‘all in good time, my friend’.

Then, their conversation is magnified in my ears, and I recognise the dulcet tones of… James?

“Look, it’s all under control, okay?” His voice sounds out.

“Have you forgotten our previous little talk?” A second voice asks, distinctly annoyed. I can’t quite recognise it – one of James’ friends? A male cousin? I look at Al. He mouths ‘ _Alec’._ Of course.

“No,” James snaps – I’ve never heard so much dislike in one of his syllables before. “Don’t be stupid. I just mean that things are _different_ now.”

“I see no difference here. You’re still doing it, aren’t you?”

“Well – yes, but… Don’t give me that crap! What wold you be doing, if it was you?”

“But we’re not talking about me-“

“-Or Victor, what would he do?”

“I _said,_ we’re talking about you. And if you remembered our last _conversation,_ I suggest you watch your step.” There’s a flurry of movement, and I strain my eyes to see Alec hold his wand up to James’ throat. “Or, you’ll have to find out the hard way we _weren’t_ bluffing.”

James’ eyes narrow. He’s evidently not the type to back down, head bowed, at such a threat. “Sure,” he scoffs. “You don’t scare me, Alec Carven. I’ve got, as we’ve established, bigger Merpeople to fry.”

James pushes Alec’s wand away and turns to stalk out of the classroom. Alec grabs his arm as he leaves, James’ head flicking back to stare him out. They glare at each other. Then, Alec pulls something out of his pocket, and James goes white, his eyes wide.

“Proof. _We_ may not scare you, but that sure does, doesn’t it, Potter?” His voice drips with malice as he holds up a sheet of parchment for James to see. “So, unless you want that out, you better had comply, I think.”

So quick we’re almost too late, James turns on his heels and slams the door behind him. Al and I duck down behind the suit of armour, then freeze as he storms past us. Even from here, you can see his face is still chalk-white.

When he’s far enough away, Al and I peel our way out, and start back to the common room.

“What in Merlin’s name was that about?” I wait for Al to shed some light on the subject.

“Your guess is as good as mine, mate.” Al’s voice is heavy.

“Well – it looks like you’re not the only Potter who’s life isn’t all unicorns and phoenixes right now.” I attempt to be funny – Al looks seriously disheartened after overhearing James get threatened, and even I am a bit shook. Who’d have thought it would be _James_ in this situation?

“Ha, ha.”

“Come on. There’s no use dwelling on it now. I bagsy first shower.” I'm only changing the subject so he'll calm down a little.

“Oi! You had it last week! But… yeah, you’re right. We can’t do anything for him. I just hope his head’s bloody screwed on right.”

“He’s got himself out of sticky situations before – remember that thing in Potions, what was he? Fourth year?”

“Aha yeah, true,” he says vaguely.

“Al. Mate.”

“What?” He looks at me dubiously.

“James'll be fine. He didn't sound worried, did he? And you know him, all this drama. He'll be laughing it off with you next week. Hey - I’ll let you have the first shower. You need it more.” I say seriously, hoping he’ll know I’m talking about more than just washing rotas. “And it’s totally not just because theres-actually-somewhere-I-need-to-be-right-now-catch-you-later!” I gabble as I rush down the corridor. I’ve left my broom and gloves on the floor, and I feel a rush of affection for Al as he reaches over, grabs them, and heads toward the common room.

****

“ROSE!” I catch her, thank Merlin, before she heads through the portrait-hole. The Fat Lady swings shut as Rose steps out again and turns to face me.

“Don’t mind me,” the painting snaps. “I could swing back and forth for you all day.”

“Sorry.” Rose steps further towards me. “We might take a minute.”

We look at each other for a minute, not speaking. Then there’s a mutual understanding, it seems, as Rose puts her hand over my forearm and pulls me towards the window ledge where we had our first proper conversation of the year.

“Is it my turn to give you advice, Malfoy?” she deadpans, the ghost of a smile on her face.

“Not – not _quite_.” I don’t know how to start. What possessed me to come and explain the whole thing to Rose, I have no clue. I guess she just… needs to know? “The thing is, well, I’ll start at the beginning. Al and I were walking back from practice, and he heard James’ voice coming from an empty classroom. So we… _eavesdropped,_ a little, and the other person just happened to be his ever-so-lovely bestie, Alec, who was – well, threatening him, is probably the simplest way of putting it.”

Rose gives a sharp intake of breath. Her eyes are wide (I have to say, she’s a pretty good listener, unlike Fred and Dax who interrupt every five seconds, and Al, who always knows more than me anyway.) She motions for me to carry on hastily.

“So he was talking about having 'proof' for something James has been doing, and how this isn’t the first time they’ve had a conversation about it. And James said that Alec didn’t scare him, and something about having bigger Merpeople to fry. Yeah. That’s more or less it. He told James to watch his step, and when he mentioned the proof, James went completely white, and I don’t think it was a coincidence.” I finish.

Rose rubs a hand on her temple, and leans back softly against the window.

“Merlin. I thought… I didn’t think he was in this much trouble, you know? I thought, that he’d just done something stupid, probably to a girl, and was working himself up trying to fix it. I was worried, I knew his friends weren’t much help, but _this…_ This is…” She breaks off, lost for words.

“I know. And he _likes_ them – or he did! For what, seven years? They’re pretty shitty mates to do, well, whatever this is, to him. Whatever he’s done, they should be helping him, not –“

“We should’ve known though, shouldn’t we? They always seemed like bad sorts.”

“Don’t blame yourself,” I say quietly, and I’m surprised at how soft my voice is.

“I – I can’t _help,_ and James is the world’s biggest _idiot_ – all he’ll do is dig himself a bigger hole! Without a sane person’s perspective, that is,” she looks anguished, and pulls her hands through her thick curls.

“He’ll never talk to anyone about it though, will he? That’s why I came, I guess. I thought, that, you know, you’d want to know about it.” I look at her, unsure, hoping she’s not gonna go, _no, you’ve just made me feel worse and he’ll never let us help him anyway!_

“Yeah, thank you for this, I did need to hear it. I can’t stand being kept in the dark when I’m already worried _enough.”_

I nod, glad I did the right thing. “You’re close, aren’t you, you and James?”

“James and Al are like my brothers, it’s always been like that,” she says simply. “Hugo, I mean, obviously we’re close, but I think, to be honest, he gets on better with Louis and Lucy. Lily, well - she and I are pretty alike, I guess. She’s like a younger version of me.” Rose smiles. “And she’ll get on with anyone who’s around her. Victoire and Roxanne, well, they’re like the cool older sisters of the family. Dom, she’s my best friend, and Fred, well, he’s the joker who rubs along fine with everybody.”

“And Molly?” I laugh. Rose just rolls her eyes. “Don’t get me started,” she pulls her legs up underneath her, and tucks herself snugly further onto the ledge.

“What are we going to do, Malfoy?” Rose’s voice is small, and the good mood is over before it’s even properly begun.

“I don’t know.” I sigh. “Al might, though?” She’s quiet for a minute.

“Yeah..." she muses. "Why didn’t you tell him to come with you? Or tell him that he should talk to me?”

Good question that, Weasley.

“When do I ever do sensible things where you’re involved?” I mutter, half to myself. Rose, however, hears, and gives me a sharp look. “Look,” I sigh. “It was my first thought, you know, after _That Night_ , and I just came. Would you rather I hadn’t?” I can hear my tone growing snappy.

“Of course not,” hers is equally as cutting.

“Well, then,” I give her a look.

“Well,” she glares back, annoyed.

Suddenly she rolls her eyes and laughs loudly, uncurling her feet and standing up from the windowsill.

“What?” I ask warily. (I’m 99% sure Rose Weasley only has two moods: extremely mad or holding back mild irritation – this fits with neither. (Oh, and we’re discounting That Night.))

“How stupid is this? We sound like twelve year olds,” she scoffs. “We very nearly forgot our agreement, too,” she gives me a stern look before laughing again, a bark-like one that reverberates in the quiet corridor.

“Oh, yeah, wouldn’t want to do that now, would we?”

She evidently doesn’t hear the sarcasm. “You know what, I actually don’t care!” she practically yells. “I don’t care what my idiot cousin has got himself into, I don’t care that the boy I love- _loved_ ditched me, I don’t care that Teddy’s being really weird now, I don’t care my grades are dropping and … Well! I think that’s enough to be not caring about, don’t you?”

“Yep, of course, definitely.” I agree hastily. Erm, where in the name of Merlin’s pants has this come from?

“So he can do whatever the fuck he wants and I _won’t_ bail him out! I’m sick of all of this!”

“Okay.” I say. “Fair enough.”

She looks surprised for a second. “Yes, it is _fair enough._ I’ve done all I can for him, and if he’s ignored this, then, well – fuck him!”

“Yep, my sentiments too.” I nod. “Although, not literally.” I pull a face at that lovely mental image.

“If he’s chosen to keep his _dickhead_ friends then that’s up to him, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I’d say so.” I stand up too, stretch, and gently put a hand on the small of Rose’s back, pushing a little till she starts to walk back to the dorms.

“And if he’s made himself this mess that can be used against him, then that’s his problem!”

“You said it.” I agree wisely, still pushing her forward. “I think, not that I don’t agree completely with you, but maybe sleeping on it will ease some of this… angst.”

“Yes! I’m going to sleep soundly knowing that _none of this is my fault!”_

Not quite what I was going for, but okay.

“Mm, sounds like a good plan.” I give the Fat Lady the password and Rose steps through, still muttering to herself. “You sleep well now,” I call to her. She nods, her back turned.

Well, I’ll bet you my last Galleon that she does NOT have this mindset tomorrow. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: girls will never fail to confuse me.


	10. An Argument (or two)

“Oh, it’s you.” Al says sleepily from his bed as I crawl into my own.

“You’re still up?” I ask, surprised. (And kinda stalling because I’m not ready for the inquisition yet)

“Bigger question – what did you have to do?”

Well, I may as well bloody come out with it now.

“Tell Rose.” I mutter, my face in the pillow.

“Tell Rose? As in, tell the 16 year old, red-haired, slightly-annoying, cousin-of-mine, Rose?”

“How many flipping Roses do we know?”

“Wow. Did not expect _that,”_ At this news, he seems to have lost his sleepiness, and sits up in bed to look at me closely. “Why?”

“Well…“ I don’t know why! And neither do I know I thought she’d want to know, and I thought maybe you’d want to have some time to think…?”

“Good on you, mate,” Al says, lying back down. “I knew it’d be good for the two of you if you got on.”

And with that bit of insight, the two of us promptly end the conversation and get a good night’s sleep.

****

I wake up first thing and lie in bed for a few minutes. For some reason I feel incredibly guilty. It sits on my chest like an overgrown Sphinx. Is it last night? Probably. What did I do again? Oh, yeah. That. Sprint off to Rose and discuss the ins and outs of James’ nonsense. Oh, and be the supporting friend when she had another little breakdown. It’s weird that, isn’t it? Second time in less than two months? Maybe I bring it out in her.

Anyway, the guilt isn’t lessening. I turn onto my side (to hear Al’s snores better, of course.) Maybe it’s Aria? Yeah, I guess I haven’t been as dedicated recently. I’ll make a huge effort today and that, I decide, will help.

Convinced, I dress quickly, wait impatiently for Al and then we go down to breakfast.

“Not got any knowledge to impart about last night?” I probe.

“Ugh. Don’t talk to me about my bloody brother.” He sighs, a little melodramatically.

“It could be worse,” I say cheerily. “At least Lily’s not a handful.”

“Yes, at least I got half-and-half. You know I’ve always been jealous of you, Scorp?”

“Really?” Ooh, this is a first. Maybe he’ll reveal I’m better looking, or more charismatic, or have the hair he’s always wanted.

“Yeah, you know, you’re an only child.”

Huh.

“So, I won’t be at dinner tonight,” I tell him as we sit down at the tables. “I’m gonna surprise Aria with food from the kitchens and do her like a midnight-picnic. Only, at teatime.”

“Aww, cute!” Dom cries, as she wedges herself in next to Al. I look at her in confusion, as does Al.

“The Slytherin table has hash browns,” Thea shrugs, as she sits on my other side. “Dom forced us.”

Why does that not surprise me? Lucky Aria’s still getting ready really, after what she thinks about me and Dom already.

“Rose is coming,” Thea whispers near to my ear. “Just to warn you.”

So I turn and flash her the biggest smile I can muster.

“Weasley! No one I’d rather share a lovely hash-brown breakfast with!”

“Malfoy! No one I’d rather sit as far away from as possible!”

I pout as she takes a seat.

“How’re you feeling this fine Thursday morning?” I beam.

“Better, you know,” she piles three hash browns onto her plate, “In the light of day I can really see things _clearly._ You get me? And therefore I’m feeling more like _myself.”_ She gives me a long look, while the other three stare at us in disbelief.

“Yeah, I couldn’t have put it better myself.” I agree.

Code: she’s realised she flipped out weirdly last night and she is now back to normal. Code: I am very glad about that, as it was a very odd sequence of events to deal with (no lie).

“When you two have _quite_ finished with, whatever, that was,” Dom has half a hash brown in her mouth, and speaks around it  -  oh-so-ladylike, “We weren’t done hearing about Scorp’s plans with Aria.” She wiggles her eyebrows at me suggestively.

At this, Thea leans in, her elbows resting on the table. Al puts his cutlery down to listen. Rose, however, turns her face away and reaches for her mug of tea.

“Oh, sorry, Rosie,” Thea says gently, placing her hand on Rose’s arm. “Is it a bit soon after your break up?” She whispers the last words so as not to push Rose over the edge, I presume.

“No, no, you go right ahead.” Rose is drinking her tea like it’s the last fluid on Earth. She swipes her hand fiercely across her mouth. “I’m completely over it, and I just can’t _wait_ to hear about Malfoy’s plans.”

Her tone suggests she’d rather eat a Blast-Ended Skrewt, but I ignore this and start talking.

“Soo, I thought I’d make her a like, hamper, or something, of food from the kitchens, and we could maybe walk up to the Astronomy Tower and sit out, you know, under the stars and whatnot, and eat it… It goes dark pretty early at the moment, doesn’t it? So we could maybe go up at seven? What do you think?”

Thea gives me a typical-girl look of adoration, Dom lets out an involuntary “Awwww,” and Al gives me an approving nod, as if he’s wondering how I came up with this all by myself.

It’s Rose I’m wondering about, though. As I turn to look at her, however, she grabs her bag, slings it over her shoulder and promptly stalks out of the Hall.

“Well.” Al says slowly. “I don’t think she’s _quite_ over her break-up yet, then.”

I guess not. As the others start talking about today’s classes, we get another, more unwelcome, set of visitors: Alec and Victor. What is it with people coming over this morning?

“Oi.” Alec puts his hands on the table and leans over us. “Where’s James?” He hisses to Al.

“Why should I know?” Al snaps back.

“You’re his brother, idiot.” Victor narrows his eyes.

“Well sorry to _disappoint,_ boys,” Al fakes confidence. “But I have as much of a clue to my dear brother’s whereabouts as you do.” He looks away from them and carries on eating.

They exchange dark glances and stalk off, disappearing out of the Hall.

Dom shudders. “I hate those two.”

“You held your ground well, Al.” Thea nods appreciatively.

“Sometimes,” Al says, around his toast, “I think there’s too many people I dislike at this school.” I raise my eyebrows. He’s like the most good-natured guy I know. “Well, there’s them two, obviously, then Hagrid, yeah, and Flint and Crabbe, and I really don’t like that girl in our House, Scorp - Aria’s friend? Bronwyn? She’s a bloody menace. Oh, and Claudette, you can tell there’s something nasty about her already.”

“To be fair, mate, you do have a point...” I’d never thought of it, but when you put it like that – our school seems to be full of right knobs at the moment.

Dom lays her head on her cousin’s shoulder.

“Think of all the good ones that you _do_ like, though.”

“Oh of course, you especially _Dominique_ – really my life wouldn’t be worth living without you.” He pats her hair.

“Favourite cousin?”

’Don’t tell Rose. Or Fred. Or Hugo.’ 

She mimes zipping her lips and we all laugh. 

“Hey, Aria!” I call to her as she comes into the Hall.

“Yeah, babe?” She looks pleased to see me, and ushers Bronwyn away as I walk over.

“Don’t have tea tonight,” I smirk. “I’ve got something planned. Meet me at the Astronomy Tower at seven. Oh, and bring a jacket.”

She says nothing, but she leans forward and pulls me in for a deep kiss. I tug her closer, my hands on her waist. I can hear a few shouts of ‘ew, get a room!’ and a few wolf-whistles from behind us. Eventually Aria pulls back.

“See you later, then.” She squeezes my hand, flips her hair back, and leaves.

****

I lay out the rug, the food, and place the little jar of flames I acquired from Dom (who got them from Rose) all out on the floor. The platform at the top of the tower juts out over the castle, and obviously, you can see all the stars above us.

“Heyy,” she comes up the stairs, and I can see she’s made a massive effort. Her hair is straight and glossy, out of this morning’s bun. She’s wearing a matching suede top and miniskirt, and knee-high boots.

I’m in old jeans and my thickest hoodie. Whoops. “Hi, Aria! You look pretty, as usual.” I give her a quick kiss.

“Only ‘pretty’?” she laughs. “This took me two hours!”

“Ah, I’ve said before, you look gorgeous whatever - _I’d_ be happy if you came up in trackies.” I don’t know why she says these things, she just makes me uncomfortable.

I pull her down onto the rug with me, and tuck my arm round her shoulder.

“So, I got some food, I didn’t know what you’d like…” I gesture at the array of cold meat, fruit, cake, crisps and Butterbeer I’ve hauled up from the kitchen.

“Ooh, you’ve made such an effort!” She sounds surprised, and I’m a little hurt. Aria reaches for some melon, and pours herself a small tumbler of Butterbeer.

We make conversation for a while, and pick at the food. When I say pick, I mean _pick,_ because Aria has literally eaten her melon and that’s it. She starts to go quiet, too, and I notice I have to make conversation more than usual.

Then, she interrupts me as I’m mid-flow.

“Let’s not talk, yeah? ...I’ve got something better we could do -” And with that, she pushes me flat on the rug and lies atop me, pressing her lips on mine.

“Um?” She’s squishing me, and my arms are pinned down. The hard concrete floor digs into my back. “Aria, maybe this isn’t really the pl-“

“Sssh,” she puts a finger to my lips and starts to kiss my jaw. “This is what you want, we both know it.”

Actually, I’m not really in the mood, and it’s very uncomfortable, but, you know, sure.

“ _Okay_ ,” I say, after a few minutes, and when her hand starts snaking towards the top of my jeans. “Let’s have a bit of a break, yeah?” I sit up, and gently push her off.

She looks sort of disgruntled, but I pull her close again, and lean back on the wall so we can look at the stars.

“You know, Scorpius, I don’t get you.” she snaps, sitting away from me a little.

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean it like that! It’s just, you know, I thought seen as it was sort of a date, we could, like, talk?...”

“You want to… _talk_?” She says this like I’ve just professed I want to clean cauldrons naked.

“Yeah? Like, just chat, have a bit of banter – “

“If you don’t like me, just say!”

“Of course I do!”

“Well, you don’t show it!”

“What’s this, then?!” I gesture at the spread. I’m starting to get annoyed now.

“Not in front of anyone else!” Aria rolls her eyes.

“That’s not true, every mealtime I sit with you, and on my frees, and in the common room!”

“Only when you _have_ to! You’d rather sit with your little Gryffindor friends!”

“What, am I not allowed to have friends now, th- ”

“- _And_ you never do big gestures for me like I thought you would!”

“Aria! For Merlin’s sake! This is that thing again, you only care about showing off to everyone else!”

“So you think I’m a show off?”

“Well, yes! I do!”

And with that, she grabs her bag, kicks her Butterbeer over the rug in a very stroppy fashion, and storms off. Oh, crap.

****

“Oh, you’re back early.” Al looks up from the chair he’s sat in as I come through the door to the common room.

“Don’t talk to me.” I snap, sinking down onto the floor, and shoving the remnants of the picnic away from me.

“Ooh, is that chorizo?” Al leans over. He takes a piece, and chews on it, watching me. “Did you break up?”

“What? No, course not.” I rake a hand through my hair angrily.

“Come on. It’ll only get worse if you bottle it up.”

“You’re just nosy.”

“That, also.”

“Well, we had a fight. A proper one, this time. About nothing! Well, about the fact I didn’t want to have sex at the top of the Astronomy tower! And she didn’t take it very well.”

“Let me guess, she started saying that rubbish about how you’re not the big power couple she wanted you to be?”

“Pretty much. Like I really like her, but I can’t deal with how she always wants more, you know? I don’t wanna be a bloody performing Thestral.”

Al raises his eyebrows.

“I’m not talking about sex!” Merlin. I can feel my ears going red.

Al nods. “What’re you gonna do?”

“Um… I don’t want to end it. I don’t think.”

“You still like her?”

“Well, yeah. I mean, she’s…”

“Fit?”

“Mm.”

“You’ll work it out. Like I said, she’s going for the power couple image. She can’t have _that_ if you’ve broken up.” Al says matter-of-factly.

“True.” I say, and feel slightly better. But what if that’s all she wants? What if she doesn’t actually like me? That’s a worrying thought. “You know, we never talked about James.” I change the subject. “I was leaving you to cool off for a bit…” I wait.

Al shrugs. “He can do what he wants. Always has done, always will.”

“Don’t you want to help him?” I question. He and James have been close since forever.

“No. I’m just sick of him.”

“You sound like Rose.” I say this without thinking. Al stares at me.

“How do you know what she thinks about it? You two hate each other.”

“Well, you knew I talked to her...”

“Yeah, I did, but I didn’t know you had a bloody heart to heart? Why’s it your business to do that? It’s my family.”

“What? Don’t be such an idiot, Al.”

“You know that’s true!”

“Okay, but, I thought you’d be happy we were at least civil to each other! She was worried! You were upset! I was fine, so I told her myself!” I’m bluffing, because even I recognised it was weird at the time.

“Just stay out of this, okay, and stop doing odd stuff like running off to Rose! You don’t have to be involved in everything, and everything doesn’t have to be about you! Merlin, Scorpius!”

“Don’t you ‘Merlin, Scorpius’ me! You’re getting mad for no fucking reason! Have you heard yourself!?” Some small part of me registers that I’m being a prick, but I ignore it.

“Fine. I won’t ‘Merlin, Scorpius’ you, because I’m not going to hang around with you when you’re acting in such a pissy way!” He stands up from the chair and grabs his stuff.

“Yeah, leave!” I yell. “You’re just annoyed because you can’t save the day, for once!”

He doesn’t even look back. “Piss off!” I shout at his retreating figure. The second time today, I’m left behind as the people I like storm off. Well done, Scorpius.

****

The next two mornings, Al’s up and gone before I’ve even woken up. Aria and I made up a day later, I apologised at breakfast, and we walked to Defence together. Although, I wouldn’t say the tension’s all gone, really.

Yeah, I know I was an idiot to Al. I know I shouldn’t have got involved and told Rose (I don’t even know why I did it in the first place!) But also, I’m too stubborn, and too proud to go and say sorry. We’ve had arguments before, and we always just laugh them off and go back to our normal selves after a while. I feel like, maybe, this time it’s not going to be the same.

I drag myself up out of bed, dress and head for Potions. I’ve overslept, missed breakfast, and the dorm is empty. What a lovely start to the morning. Oh, and of course, it’s Halloween today, so the corridors are full of overexcited lower-schoolers, and there’ll be a fat feast tonight where Al will still be mad at me! Fab.

As I go downstairs, I get a complete shock when I see Al himself stood, tying his shoelaces at the bottom, chatting amicably to Damaris.

“Al…” I start, not a clue what else I want to say.

“Don’t.” He glares at me. “I didn’t deserve all that shit you gave me, and you can’t just be like ‘forget it, mate’, this time!” I open my mouth to respond, but I’m cut off. “No, don’t interrupt me! You go on and on about Aria, and your little relationship problems, have you even asked me about Lyla – no! And what about you and Dax doing food for James’s, have you even _thought_ about that – no, because you’re so selfish!”

I can’t even say it’s not true.

“Don’t talk to me till you’ve changed!” He gives me a fleeting impression of a parent when you’re trying to apologise for breaking their rules. Then I’m left alone, angry, and basically friendless in the common room.

The walk to class is, obviously, lovely. As I arrive, early, because I power-walked my anger off, someone grabs my arm from behind.

“Aria?”

“Non, it ees me, Claudette. From History of Magic?” She says that like I wouldn’t know her otherwise. Her deep French accent is unmistakeable. Please don’t hit on me, I pray to Merlin. That’s the last thing I need. “You ‘ave fallen out with your friend, I know, I heard ‘im say eet.” She’s stood so close to me I can see each of her mascara-caked eyelashes.

“And…?”

“I can ‘elp you. I need sometheeng, and you can ‘elp me to get eet. After, we can make your leetle friend like you again.” She flicks me a dazzling smile.

“How?” I narrow my eyes.

“We get ‘im his girrl, non? That will defineetely make him forgeeve you.”

“What do you need?” I ask.


	11. A Party to Remember

I can’t believe what I’ve just agreed to do. Claudette wants to leave Hogwarts – that much doesn’t surprise me. What’s shocking is that she couldn’t find anyone else to help her ‘do eet’.

When I questioned: why me? She had said, “I ‘ave asked leetle Lily, and what deed she say? Non. Non, non, non! She ‘ates me already.” Claudette had sighed melodramatically. “And that James, he ees not to be reasoned wiz! ‘E ees falling for me already, and ‘e will never take me seeriously.” She had looked at me hard, then, as if to see whether I could fill her expectations.

“What about Al?” I had asked her (seen as that would have been in keeping with the Potter theme.)

“Ah! ‘E was my next option, but I thought I ‘ad less to offer him than you, see _he_ would never believe that I could ‘elp him win ‘is guurrl over.”

“ _Basically_ ,” I had surmised, “You thought I was the soft option?”

“Hey! Don’t you want your leetle friend back?” She had batted her eyelashes at me, and I had found myself saying yes.

****

So, I have (don’t ask me how) promised Claudette I’ll speak to McGonagall for her – a scary task, but I do feel the Head prefers me over some of her _other_ Slytherin students. And hopefully with this bit of favouritism, she’ll take pity on Claudette. You never know. And today is the day of James’ party, so hopefully Al will have forgotten our whole argument, James will have cut all his weirdness out, and Rose will be back to her normal, slightly bitchy, wholly confident self.

Yeah, and werewolves might fly.

Al is still ignoring me as I walk into the common room. The lessons for today are over, and everyone who’s been invited to James’s is beginning to get ready. Damaris and Aria went up two hours ago, they skived off Divination (no comment). Al actually turns his back on me as I head up to get changed. I wonder if he’ll stay down there and Accio his clothes if I take hours to get ready.

Apparently not. When I get out the shower Al’s fixing his hair in front of the mirror on our bathroom door. There’s a short awkward pause as we look at each other, and before I start getting dressed. Well - let’s just hope Claudette can pull off her plan.

I choose a navy shirt and black jeans, then spray on some cologne and head downstairs. I’m early, but when I leave the common room, who should I walk straight into, but the woman of the hour. Claudette herself. She has on a long glittery grey dress, and her auburn hair is tied up into a low bun at the side of her head.

“Leetle Scorpiuuss!” she croons. (You’re only one year above, I want to snap.) “Deed you forget ze theme?”

“What?” Oh, crap - of _course_. The theme.

“It eez 1920s, silly! Come ‘ere,” she tugs me by the collar, and pulls out her wand. With a flick, she changes my outfit into a sort of navy suit jacket, with a white shirt underneath, matching bow tie, and gives me smart trousers to replace my jeans. She bites her lip, sizing up the changes, and I feel even more like an idiot for forgetting the main focus of the party. Then, with a final flamboyant swish of her wand, I feel a wet spot on the top of my head – she’s slicked my hair back with gel.

“Claudette!” I yelp, putting a hand to my head.

“What? Eet looks _beautiful.”_

“Beautiful was – not _quite_ the look I was going for…” I grumble.

“Oh, be quiet, it ees ungrateful! Look,” she twists my by the shoulders. “We’re late. Come on.”

“Have you sorted it with Lyla?” I whisper as we walk.

“Ahh, oui, oui.”

“And?”

“She ees expecting to be swept off ‘er leetle feet! Al will be ‘er knight een shining armour!”

That doesn’t really clear it up, mate.

“…Just leave it to me, I ‘ave eet all under control! You will ‘ave your friend back in no time!” She turns to look at me, as we stop at the door. “And then, as I am sure, you will keep up your side of ze bargain?”

I almost say ‘oui’.

“Yes, of course, Claudette.”

“Merci. Now, let us go in!”

Just as I’m about to enter the chaos that is the Room, my hand is on the door, there’s a shrill scream from behind us.

“ _Scorpius!!”_ Oh, _fuck_. I'd recognise that screech miles away.

“Yess?” I turn around, in actual terror.

“How could you?! How could you forget me!?” Aria descends down the staircase towards us, stray hairs escaping from her updo, her face red and contorted with rage.

“I am your _girlfriend,_ and yet you have the audacity, the _nerve,_ to turn up to the party, with – with that _slut!_ I can’t take this! You said you would wait for me! Am I not as pretty as she is? Are _three months of dating_ not worth more than DD-cup boobs!?”

“Aria!” I’m too shocked to respond. “I’m _really_ sorry.” Would saying ‘I forgot’ be tactless? I decide to just go ahead and say it.

“I just… forgot. Claudette and I were only talking, about – well, I guess you could call it business, really. I have absolutely no interest in her, or her, her _boob_ _size_! I promise! She’ll tell you that!” I look around wildly for her, but she’s disappeared into the party. Typical.

Aria’s eyes have grown steadily narrower throughout this little explanation, and when she speaks, it’s with a cold hard fury.

“Don’t you lie to me, Scorpius Malfoy. I see _right_ through you. How you never make a proper effort for me, how you scamper off with Dominique and that Claudette, and how you haven’t even bothered to look at me this evening –“

“For Merlin’s sake, calm the fuck down! None of that is true!”

“YOU FORGOT TO COME AND GET ME, BECAUSE YOU WERE WITH HER!”

“It was an accident! WE ALL MAKE MISTAKES!” I yell back.

“You make too many!” she jabs her finger at me.

“Well, if I piss you off that much, then why are you dating me!?” I demand.

“I don’t know! I may as well not be!”

“Well, don’t, then!”

“You know what, fine! I don’t want to see your fucking face again, you prick! Enjoy your stupid party, I hope Claudette puts out for you like I did! And don’t expect to ever get anyone better, _Malfoy.”_

With that, she stalks back up the stairs, and I no longer have a girlfriend.

No more Aria. It takes a couple seconds to sink in, through my anger. There'll be no one to meet after class, to steal kisses from in the corridors… Well, stuff her, I think. I push the door to the Room open. I may as well have a good time of it. The heartbreak, I guess, will settle in later, maybe? Now all I feel is slightly relieved that there’ll be no more screaming.

The first person I bump into is Al.

“Shit, mate,” he says, his face concerned - no trace of hate.

“You’re talking to me!” I exclaim. Forget Claudette’s plan, he’s done it already!

“I… heard," he doesn't meet my eyes. "You and Aria. Sorry, Scorp, I know you liked her.”

“Oh. Yeah. Yeah - I did. Well, I plan to get piss-drunk and forget the whole thing by tomorrow.” I say, almost-brightly.

“Good plan. You’ll be fine. Fred! Scorp and I want drinks!”

The Room looks amazing. About a hundred times better than the Anniversary after-party. The whole thing is decked out in black and gold décor, there’s a handful of third years been roped in to wait, handing out canapés, and all the guests have actually all kept to the dress code. I feel like we’ve been transported back in time.

I spot Dom, Thea, and Dax stood near the dancefloor, and I go over whilst Al gets our drinks. Hey, all it took was for me to break up with my girlfriend for him to like me again.

“Girls.” I nod my head at them. “Dax. It looks great in here!”

They exchange heavily-loaded looks. “Aria was always a bit prissy for you, I thought. You’re more down to earth than she is.” Dom gets straight to the point. “Oh, we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to!” Thea had elbowed her.

I laugh. “It’s fine. I’m a bit in shock, but we did argue a fair bit.”

“And you can have a right good sesh now,” Dax interrupts. “You’ll get over her. Oh, and I brought the food down, so don’t worry about that.”

“Oh, crap, Dax. I’m really sorry.” Seems like that’s all I ever say at the moment. Dax simply shrugs it off and punches me lightly on the arm.

Al appears back with the drinks. He levitates them behind him, and heads straight to me.

“I mean, I know we shouldn’t, but – here’s to being single!” He holds his glass up, and we both drink. The Firewhiskey burns my throat but makes me feel upbeat instantly.

I decide now is the best moment. Over the loud music, I yell, “Al, mate, I’m so sorry! I was a prick, I shouldn’t have gotten involved in your stuff, and I shouldn’t have been so stubborn not to apologise!”

“I’m sorry too! I shouldn’t have yelled at you and ignored you!”

“Let’s put it behind us!”

“Let’s!”

Dom raises her eyebrows at us. “You two are such soppy drunks,” she shakes her head, flicking back her hair, which is gelled into pin curls for the occasion.

Ignoring her, I say, “You girls look so nice!” and they do. Dom’s dress is cream, off the shoulder, and she has a matching feathery headpiece. Thea looks very pretty in her black sequinned gown, her thick fringe very suitable for the occasion.

“Isn’t it a bit early for a rebound, eh, Scorp?” Dom winks. I roll my eyes.

“Has anyone seen James?” Al asks, looking round the packed room for the man of the hour. “Or Rose, actually?”

Dax points through a group of giggling Hufflepuffs, back at the entrance to the Room. “ _There’s_ Rose.”

I feel my mouth drop open in shock as she glides through the doors. The girls are pretty, Aria looked nice, Claudette was eye-catching, but Rose – Rose looks absolutely _stunning._

She’s wearing an emerald–coloured dress: it’s slinky shiny satin, with tiny straps, and it looks like it was _made_ to fit her. With her bright red hair pinned into finger-waves, she looks like a 20s goddess. Who knew Weasley could scrub up that well, eh?

As she makes her way over to us, Al leans over and whispers in my ear. “Eyes back in your head, Malfoy. That’s my cousin you’re gawping at.”

“I – erm, was – um… I, _you know._ ” He raises eyebrows, but his mouth threatens a smirk. “I wasn’t checking Rose out! I only just broke up with Aria! And we don’t even _like_ each other!” I protest.

“Good to know, Malfoy.” Rose flicks an eyebrow at me, as she reaches our little group. Of _course_ she’d overhear. “I’d offer my sympathy about your girlfriend, but in the circumstances…”

“I wasn’t checking you out!” I yelp. This is just getting worse! (But let’s just come out with it - she does look _hot._ Though not that I’m hitting on anyone, seen as I’ve only been single ten minutes; and not that I’d ever hit on _Rose_ anyway.)

“Sure. Anyway, have any of you seen the birthday boy? I want to give him his gift.” Rose taps her foot to the beat of the song as she talks.

There’s a chorus of ‘No’s.

“Oh, wait,” I say, “Isn’t that him, over there?” He’s stood on the edge of the room, with (unsurprisingly) Claudette, who’s talking to Lyla and a girlfriend. (Our plan, I’m guessing.) James keeps attempting to get Claudette’s attention, he’s constantly mussing his hair up and straightening his black tux. He’s wearing the gaudiest 18th badge I've ever seen – it keeps flashing the Gryffindor colours and spells out: ’18 - Babes watch out!’ Whatever that’s supposed to mean.

Rose and Al stride over to him in unison. Al wrenches him away from the girls, and Rose ‘Accio's' her gift for him. Well, a joint gift really – we all clubbed in to get him the newest Firebolt.

“James!” Dom throws her arms round his neck as they reach us. “Happy Birthday!” Dax, Thea and I all nod in agreement.

“Thank you, thank you. Now back off so I can open my present!”

“You should really wait till tomorrow…” Rose tries, but he’s already pulling the wrapping off, right there in the middle of the dance floor.

“A _Firebolt_! Guys, what? This is _insane!_ Merlin, it must have cost a fortune!” James strokes the broom’s handle tenderly. “Wow.”

“You’re welcome!” Fred trills, as he appears behind James.

“Can’t wait to get this baby out on the pitch…” James trails off and frowns, catching sight of Claudette walking to the dancefloor with a seventh year Slytherin. “Oi! If you hadn’t distracted me, I’d have had that one in the bag!”

“James!” Thea protests, “You can’t talk about girls as if they’re chess pieces!”

“Shhh, Carleston, it’s my _birthday,_ I can talk what I like….” He grins. “In fact, I’d say Frenchie _owes_ me a dance, wouldn’t you?”

And with that, he’s off. He hands the broomstick to a third year, who adds it to his present table, where it trumps all his other gifts by a mile. “Hey, Charpente! Seen as I am the host of this gathering, I demand you dance with me right now!”

She gives him a glare that could kill, but the Slytherin who was dancing with her backs away at James’ shout, and the two of them are left together.

“What makes you zink zat you deserve theees?” Claudette snaps.

“What, you think that I’m not good enough for you?” James scoffs.

“Oui. Zat ees exactly what I zink. You are a jumped-up, self-centred leetle idiot! Stop zinking ‘ou are ze bees’ knees, and grow up!” Claudette spins on her heels and heads back to Lyla. James, poor guy, doesn’t stand a chance, as he calls after her.

I think vaguely about telling her to abandon her side of the bargain – I have Al back already. But then, I still plan to help her out, and I see no reason for Al to lose out on an extra chance to win his girl. So I leave her to walk away.

“Let’s dance!”

Dom grabs Thea and Rose’s hands, and the three of them take Claudette and James’ places on the dancefloor. I stand back with the boys, and finish my drink. If Aria and I were still together, I’d be out there with her now.

“Boys!” Rose calls. “Come on, dance with us!” So we weave our way into the crowd and join them, albeit a little reluctantly.

“Psst.” Claudette, out of nowhere, appears at my side after a while of this, and whispers in my ear. “I zink I ‘ave convinced Lyla. Bring Al over to ‘er.”

“Hey, Al!” I grab his arm and follow Claudette to where Lyla is stood at the edge of the room. “Look, I think she’s been waiting to talk to you,” And I give him a push, like we’re little first years.

Claudette winks at me, then disappears as quickly as she came. I stand back from Al and Lyla, the latter who is leaning against the wall, in a floaty ash-coloured dress, her long dark curls down.

“Hey.” Al says nervously, as he stands in front of her. She gives him a little smile.

Then I feel a hand on my shoulder, and someone with flowery perfume leans in close to my ear. “Do you think we should be listening to this?” I turn round, and it’s Rose.

I don’t actually get a chance to reply to that, because at that precise moment, Al kisses Lyla. He puts one hand to her cheek, and pulls her gently towards him, then kisses her firmly, in full view of everyone.

Rose hitches her breath, and grips my wrist in surprise. “Merlin.” I murmur.

Lyla draws back, and for a second she looks at him almost longingly, then she takes his hand, turns, and pulls him after her through to the back room.

“Wow.” Rose says.

“Wow, exactly. Who knew!?”

“I didn’t! I thought she was going to hit him, for a second!”

“Ha! What is it with girls being so into physical stuff lately? I thought they liked romance…”

Rose gives me an odd look. I’m thinking of Aria, and why we got into that huge fight. And Lyla, who hated romantic gestures, but totally goes for it when Al springs a kiss on her.

“Okay, I don’t need _any_ information on your relationship, Malfoy, _thank you_ ,” she says acerbically, as we start to walk back to the others.

I’m about to retort to that obvious insult, but then we’re interrupted by none other than Markus Creed, who is without his usual entourage of adoring girls, and staring straight at Rose.

“Hi.” he says, coming to a halt in front of us. He shoves his hands in the pockets of his suit, and cocks an eyebrow at her. “Fancy a dance?”

She glances at me uncertainly, but then takes a little step forward. “Ooh, I’d love to, Markus.” she smiles, looking up through her dark lashes. “Well, I’ll see you, Malfoy.”

He offers her his hand, and she clasps it. Before they disappear into the throng of people, I can’t help but mutter,

“He’s only asking because you look hot tonight. Bet he doesn’t even know your name.”

Rose’s head snaps round in shock. The look she gives me is a mixture of utter disbelief and anger, and she says,

“You know what, just piss off, will you? I thought we were getting on better, but then you go and say stuff like that. Why can’t you just be _pleased_ for me?”

Then she takes Creed firmly by the hand, and the two of them leave me to join the dancing crowd in the centre. It suddenly strikes me that it’s the second time tonight that I’ve had an argument with a girl I used to be so close to; the second time that girl has walked away and left me, pissed off.

“Hey, Dax.” I reach the others in our little spot. Dax doesn’t say anything, but he passes me another drink. Dom and Thea arrive almost a second later, slightly flushed and out of breath from dancing.

“Have you seen who our little cus has bagged, eh Scorpy?” Dom definitely sounds tipsy. She doesn’t even wait for my reply. “Markus ‘Hot Stuff’ Creed!”

I’m getting a definite sense of déjà vu here.

“Haven’t you got yourself a dance partner, _Dominique?_ ” I retort.

“Pfft.” Thea scoffs, and leans wobbly on Dax. “She’s too good for them all.”

“True.” Dom shrugs, unabashed. “Been there, done that – what, back in fourth year? Or was it third? I’m waiting for a proper man now.”

“What about you, Tee?” I slurp my drink and nod at her.

“Oh no, I don’t have my eye on anyone.” But she doesn’t quite meet my eyes as she says it. Interesting.

Dax launches into his answer without even being asked.

“I mean, I had a thing going with Tess for a bit – yeah, the one from your dorm. But then we sorta tailed off… oh, and I kissed Marisa around the first week of October –“

“Really, Dax?” Thea and I pull faces. “She’s got the personality of a-“

“Brick?” Dom offers. “And she’s a tad bitchy, too.” she pauses for a second. “But then, aren’t we all?”

“So, you’re the philosophical drunk, then.” Fred is back from making drinks, adding his piece in. “And actually, for that, Dom, I have to agree. On another note - have you seen Al with that Lyla girl he’s into?”

“No.” I say. “Rose and I saw them go off together, but that was a bit ago. Why, what’s happened now?”

The others lean in, ready for gossip. “Oh, I don’t actually know,” Fred says quickly, to everyone’s disappointment. “But we want to give James his cake, and Al’s not here.”

“I’ll find him.” I offer. “I saw which way he went.”

It takes me at least twenty minutes to track Al down. Needless to say, he and Lyla did not stay in the back room. I open the door to the empty classroom and go in dubiously (and noisily, I want to give them fair warning before I walk in on anything uncompromising.)

“Hey, guys! We’re doing the birthday thing for James now, and Fred thi-“

I break off, because there’s only one person perched on a table, knees hunched, in the classroom.

“Al? What happened? Where is she?”

Al looks up at me, his face solemn. “Scorp, you’re not gonna believe this.”

“What? Tell me.”

“Argh! It’s actually so fucking unfair! I actually have the _worst_ bloody luck…”

I sit down on a chair near to Al. “She didn’t – _scream_ at you again, or anything, did she?”

“Oh, no – that’s like a blessing compared to this.” Al shakes his head crossly and leans back on his hands. “Okay, do _not_ laugh, but…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that the party took up literally a whole chapter! And that we’re not done yet. Oops. There’s so much to happen though in this one. Well, here’s a little cliffie - to be continued... -L


	12. A Bit of a Mess

Al gives me a long look before he finishes his sentence. “Scorp, she’s – she’s _gay.”_

“Um, sorry – what?”

“Yeah. She’s a lesbian. Into girls. I know. I mean, obviously it’s totally cool, like love whoever you want, I’m fine with that, but…”

“But this is _Lyla_. The same Lyla who supposedly had a thing with Creed?! Who was dating Carmichael for like, a year! Since _when_?”

“I know. I’m actually so shocked. I did not see it coming. But, yeah. She said she only realised over summer – met this girl on holiday or whatever. Apparently she was proper upset at first, tried to deny it and all, which I guess is where I came in. But tonight I s’pose she just knew it’d never work out…”

“Explains a lot, really. That outburst when you tried to be romantic, and stuff.”

“I can’t help thinking – what if I turned her?” Al looks up at me.

“Al!” There’s a little pause, and then we both burst out laughing. “Don’t be an idiot.” I say. “If that’s what someone feels, it’s always in there, deep down. And anyway, it’s not you who should be worried, it’s Carmichael!”

I think that lessens his worries. Dear Merlin, he really knows how to pick ‘em.

“Come on, mate.” I stand up. “There’s other Merpeople in the lake. And we can both be single together, now.”

“True. Maybe we should be gay, that’d solve all our problems.” Al offers, as we head back to the Room.

“Yeah definitely. You can be my back-up husband.”

We look at each other slowly.

“Let’s _never_ mention that again.” Al says firmly.

“What? I don’t know what you’re on about. Nothing happened.” I agree.

The party’s buzzing when we go back. Everyone’s flooded the dancefloor, and James has somehow managed to levitate himself about a foot above everybody, at the front.

“You look like Voldemort, doing that!” Al yells.

James puts his arms out, tilts his head down, and pulls a face, just to emphasise this.

“Okay, three cheers for me!” James hollers.

“That’s not the idea!” Fred is holding the cake, and warily making his way through the tight cluster.

“I don’t care, Freddie m’boy! It’s my birthday, I get to call the shots!”

So we all cheer, and James grins. Fred holds the cake above his head, and James leans over to blow out the candles. He screws his eyes shut, and I wonder what he’s wishing on the drippy chocolate cake for.

“Whooo! Claudette, you were my wish - wanna gimme a birthday smooch?” No need to wonder anymore, as he spots her at the back.

“As you Engleesh say,” she calls, “Piss off!”

Well, that’s him told.

Someone gets the music going again, and I spot the rest of our group cracking out some moves in the middle. Al and I go and join them. Is it really a sesh if you don’t get some awful dancing done? Dom is the only one who manages to make it look halfway decent – but then, with Veela blood, she could probably make putting out the bins look glamourous. Thea is definitely tipsy. Her dancing is more wobbling and gripping onto us for support than it is moving.

“Al! You’re back! How’d it go?” It’s Rose. Grinning like a madwoman and putting a dirty sort of influence on the word ‘go’. Al pulls a face.

“Tell you later.” Guess he wants to keep Lyla’s privacy.

“Where’s Creed?” I say shortly. (I.e, did he ditch you when he realised you’re the one who asks the teachers for extra work after class?)

“ _Markus_ has gone to the loo.” she snaps. And, we’re back to square one.

Creed appears a moment later, putting his hands over Rose’s eyes, the latter who giggles like a ditzy Hufflepuff and spins round to see him. I actually feel sick. Please tell me they’re not going to get together – I swear when she has a boyfriend she’s even _more_ moody than usual.

“You alright, Scorp?” Fred gives me a jab. I realise I've actually stopped dancing and am sort of just staring in horror at the two of them. Oh Merlin. Please, please, don’t let this niggling angry feeling be – I actually can’t even think it – _jealousy_ for Rose. No way. This is not a thing. She just annoys me when she’s all flirty with guys, that’s all. Don’t ask me why.

The others are all giving me funny looks now. I make the excuse of wanting some food, and I go and nab a piece of James’ cake.

“Scorpeeeus!” There’s only one girl who says my name like that. “Deed you like my leetle plan? Eet worked, didn’t eet?”

“No.” I snap. And because I’m pissed, I mutter, “Lyla is gay.”

“What?! Non, non, she cannot be! Wait… I saw you and Albuss talking, and dancing, with ze others?”

“Yes, we’re mates again now, but that had nothing to do with you.”

“Awww, Scorpeeus, don’t be mad at me!” she leans her head on my shoulder. “I deed try, I asked Lyla to go talk to ‘im, I didn’t know she felt like zat…”

“S’okay,” I say gruffly, patting her arm gingerly. “Like you said, we’re fine now.”

“And you will still ‘elp me with ze Headmistress?”

“Sure.”

“Ah, bon! Well, I must be going, boys to see, et cetera,” she flashes me a quick smile and leaves just as fast as she arrived.

“Short and sweet.” James leans over and takes a piece of his own cake. “I like girls like that.”

“Mm. Sadly they don’t like you.”

He rolls his eyes, and stuffs the cake in in one. “Enjoying the party?”

“Yeah – I mean, I’d say congrats, it’s great, and stuff, but then we organised it all, soo…”

“Oh. Yeah, there is that. Have you seen Alec and Victor, by any chance?”

“No, sorry.” I say. “Why?”

“Well, we had a bit of a fight, I guess, and they said they wouldn’t come… but I guess I hoped that maybe they’d change their minds. Obviously not.”

“Oh. Cheer up, though! I never liked them, and all you other friends are here,” I try to sound more upbeat. “And family.” I add, thinking, again, of Rose.

“Mm..”

“Yeah, I mean obviously Al, Freddie, Rose, Dom, but I've seen Roxanne here too, even Molly, funnily enough, and Lily? I think I maybe saw her, although it coulda been Rose… Yeah, she’d have had to sneak in…”

James looks distracted though, and not his usual self-confident, happy go lucky self. You’d think even if shit was going down, you’d be happy on your birthday. I remember all the worries everyone’s had, about him, and turn to say something else, but he’s disappeared.

Al, Fred, Dom and Thea have found some squishy chairs in the corner, and I swallow my pride and go back to join them. I’m flagging now.

“Oi, Al!” I call over the music as I sit down. “What time is it?”

“Twenty past three!”

I pull a face, as does Thea. Dom and Fred raise their eyebrows at each other and grin, as if to say ‘let’s see how long we can make it’.

I can see Rose making her way from dancing over to us. The crowd of dancers is getting very thin now. She looks upset, but, one has to admit, still pretty gorgeous.

“He’s with _her!_ Look! I went to speak to James, and I come back – to that!” Her cheeks are flushed, and she gestures wildly at the dancefloor, where, she’s right, Creed is currently entwined with a curvy seventh year Ravenclaw, his hands in her dark hair.

I feel an unexplained rush of relief at this. It’s because he’s annoying, I think. Because she’s moody when she’s with boys. But somehow, that doesn’t _fully_ explain it.

“Come on,” I say quietly to Al. Before Rose starts screaming, or bursts into tears, or something. Or before I end up declaring I want to move to Albania and be a Hippogriff-tamer. Because that’d be just as weird as being _jealous_ over Rose.

Al nods, and we leave, yelling 'Happy Birthday' to James on the way out, and rushed goodbyes to the others.

We get halfway back to the dorms, when he suddenly stops.

“I need to talk to her, Scorp. I just need to say something, to let her know it’s all fine, and I won’t tell anyone, if she doesn’t want me to.”

“You still like her.” It isn’t a question.

He rakes his hand through his messy hair. “Yes. It’ll take time. Like you, with Aria. But…”

“Let me guess, you want to do it now?”

“Mm. Sorry.” He looks guilty.

I rub my eyes. “Good luck, mate. I’m just gonna go to bed. No offence, or anything.”

He gives me a reassuring grin, and heads straight back in the direction we came. Before I get to the dorms, though, I decide to nip to the kitchens for a quick slice of pizza. I’ve barely eaten anything, and I just fancy some high-carb food before bed. I mean, it’s already half three – what’s a few more minutes gonna do?

I reach the portrait of the fruit, and touch my finger to the pear. Before I can stroke it, however, there’s a voice from behind me.

“Bit late for this, isn’t it, Malfoy?” Oh crap crap crap. McGonagall?

Oh, but _no_ , it’s our favourite Weasley relative. Rosie. I turn round to see her fully, and appreciate the fact that we’re both still clad in our gear, her emerald cocktail gown, my navy dressrobes. She looks flushed still, her curls starting to tumble out of her updo.

“You… got here quick.” I say.

“Or you walked slow,” she shrugs, leans against the wall.

“Sorry bout Creed.”

“Not though, are you?” Rose folds her arms.

I wrinkle my nose. “No, not really.”

“It’s alright. He was a bit of a prick, really.”

“That’s true. Question is,” (this is the Firewhiskey talking) “Who’s worse - me or him?”

Rose looks at me, for a long moment. Her brown eyes are calm, unworried, devoid of their usual annoyance that appears when I’m around. She says nothing. Neither do I. I don’t even know where we stand anymore. My eyes lock with hers, and it feels like everything has frozen around us.

Then, in one sudden movement, without even stopping to think, I pull her to me, grabbing her waist and pressing my lips to hers. She responds with a fierce intensity, and I kiss her like I’ve never kissed anyone before. There’s no room to think ‘what the actual hell are we doing’, there’s only Rose, pressed close to me, the feel of her satin dress under my hands.

 _Merlin_ , _she’s so beautiful_ , I think, trailing my lips down her jaw. Followed shortly by _this is actually fucking insane._

“Malfoy,” she murmurs against my skin. “I don’t want to be your rebound snog. I’m not her.”

Her who? Oh. Aria. Well…

“And we both know this is going to end awfully… We hate each other,” she adds, tugging her hands further into my hair. Don't we just?

“But… that’s exactly what you can be,” I whisper in her ear. “A distraction. You don’t even have to mean it. Just - just be there. We’re both alone. And… I need someone. You can forget we even spoke, in the morning.”

She leans her forehead against mine. That’s good. I was afraid she’d pull away. I smirk, knowing she can see it. “And you have to admit, Weasley, I’m a good kisser.”

Rose pushes her lips back onto mine. “A bloody good kisser.” she says quietly, against my mouth. Must be the first time we’ve ever agreed on something. I press her back against the wall, and in the midst of all the snogging, it occurs to me that we have _exactly_ the right height ratios for this. Then Rose pulls me closer to her, and I forget even my name.

****

It’s a week after the party. We’re in Potions, and like I have done for the past four lessons, I’m staring at the back of Rose’s glossy hair, and wondering just what the fuck is actually going on with us. I kissed her. She kissed me back. It was, probably, the best bloody kiss I've ever had. And - it was with Al’s _cousin_. Who, incidentally, I strongly dislike. And who strongly dislikes me back. Yet, there’s been more than a handful of weird moments, where it feels like we breach this stereotype, and end up acting, more than anything – like we’re actually _close._ I’m not even just talking about the kissing.

But, like we agreed, everything went back to normal after James’ party. We tried to hold in our dislike, and as usual, were civil; did not tell a soul about what went down in the corridor outside the kitchens. So, really, I should’ve forgotten about the whole thing now. I’ll think this, and then I’ll see her flick her hair, out of the corner of my eye, or she’ll laugh at something Dom says, and all I can think of is her body pressed up against mine, against the wall of the corridor. Oh, why did it have to be Rose bloody Weasley?

Added to this utter mess, the whole school seems to be gossiping about mine and Aria’s break up. It’s ironic that we only get the ‘power-couple’ attention that she wanted, when we’re over. It’s even _more_ ironic that this was pretty much the reason it ended. Since last week, no less than three girls have come up to me and asked me to Hogsmeade. Two of them from the year below. I said no to them all.

Al didn’t even bat an eyelid. He isn’t jealous, it seems, when people like me, only when I have an actual girlfriend. This is good, I keep thinking, as it’s unlikely I’ll get one again anytime soon, so the jealousy can be at a minimum. The most surprising development is with him and Lyla, who have actually ended up pretty good mates. I haven’t asked if he’s over her yet; I think it’ll take time. She sits with us at lunch sometimes, and often they walk to classes together. I guess when someone knows your biggest secret, it does bring you together.

Like me and Rose. With all James’ drama, I’m the only one who knows what she properly thinks about it. Oh, and the fact that we snogged, of course.

“Oi, Scorp! Where you even listening?” Al gives me a poke. “Or do you just think Dom has a really pretty head?” He’s stood up, ready to get the Potion ingredients.

“I…” Wasn’t looking at Dom, I was looking at your other cousin, who, you’d kill me if you knew this BUT I SNOGGED HER AND NOW I DON’T KNOW WHAT IS GOING ON WITH US. “I’ll get the ingredients, you always do it.” I finish, and walk past him.

When we leave Potions - the whole group chattering about something I’m not listening to - there’s a surprise waiting outside the door. For me. In the form of a tall, bold, French girl.

“Hello, Claudette,” I say tiredly. This is the third time this week she’s come to see if I've spoken to McGonagall.

“ _Bonjour_! Albuss, Rose, Dominique… Freddie, and?” She looks around at the lot of us.

“No need,” I say quickly.

“Dax.” Dax holds out his hand, gazing at her dreamily. “and Thea,” he makes a quick gesture to her.

“ _Anyway,”_ I say firmly, steering her away before Dax can ask her out, or something. “No, I haven’t done it yet. I will, though. Soon.”

“Scorpeeus!” She rolls her big blue eyes at me. “I ‘ave ‘ad enough of zis school! Everyone is so _unglamourous,_ and all ze seventh years keep asking me out!” she complains.

“What, is everyone gorgeous, in France?”

“Oui.” She doesn’t even detect the sarcasm.

“Okay. Well, if those are your only issues – “

“Non! I want to go ‘ome! My parents zink zat thees education is more, ‘ow you say? All-rounded. But eet ees not! There are just more rules! And eet ees cold! I cannot wear my short skirt! Only my meedle-length one! And all the classes-“

“Right, I think I get the picture. Claudette, you do know that it’s unlikely McGonagall will actually listen to me?”

“Well, breeng Albuss then! Or Dominique, she seems nice, she ees French! I do not care how you do eet anymore, just please make her say yes, Scorpeeus.”

So I promise her I will try my best to do it today. Why do I get myself into these things?

“Hey, Scorpius!” It’s James. He looks too cheerful.

“Were you just eavesdropping on our conversation?” I ask suspiciously as I head to the common room.

“No,” he says, grinning. “I couldn’t help but overhear. That’s different.”

“Right. Okay.”

“So, what I wanted to ask was, seen as you and Miss Charpente are evidently best buds, will you get her to like me?”

“What? No,” I say quickly. “I mean, I hate to break this to you, James, but she’s frankly not interested.”

“Pfft.” He scoffs at me, messing up his already messy hair. “How could you not fall for this?”

I smirk. “She wants to leave Hogwarts anyway, didn’t you hear her? She wants to go back to Fra-“

“-Well, that’s an even bigger reason to help me, then. Let me have her while I still can!” He’s blatantly ignoring everything I'm saying.

“You know what,” I say suddenly, struck by a stroke of genius. “Why don’t you help her with McGonagall, you know, get her to let Claudette leave, and make her fall for you at the same time?”

“Oh, you mean, play the hero, solve her problem, and then she’ll like me?”

“Yeah. Something like that.”

“Good plan, mate. But don’t think you’re getting out of this. I’ll need you to help me do both of these things.”

I groan. I’d thought I’d solved all of my problems in one then. Guess not. “Can’t you ask Al?” I ask, as we reach the common room.

“No. You know her better. Catch ya later, Scorp!”

I barely resist putting my head in my hands, as I sink down in a comfy armchair next to Al. Barley.

“Ooh, I wouldn’t get too comfy if I were you, Scorpius.” Damaris leans over the back of my chair. She’s not been too bitchy, considering I just broke up with her best friend. Who, naturally, shoots me death glares whenever we see each other, and is almost at Rose Weasley’s standard of hidden jibes.

“Oh, why?” I groan. Al looks up and laughs.

“We have practice in fifteen minutes,” she trills, then ruffles my hair and walks away.

“Yeah, let’s not put Draven in a bad mood before we even get there,” Al adds. “The match is on Saturday.”

Oh, someone please Avada Kedavra me.


	13. Calling in a Favour (or Two)

There’s something on top of the bedcovers. Oh Merlin. It weighs a ton, I can feel the breath on my face. This is it. I’m going to die. It must be Flint or Crabbe, coming to get revenge of years of hating me. Or Alec and Victor – the closest thing to criminal masterminds this school has. I daren’t open my eyes.  
“Psst. Scorpius!” Hang on, I know that voice.  
“James?” Okay, maybe I’m not going to be murdered.  
“Yeah, duh.” I sit up in bed, push the covers off.  
“What the fuck?! It’s -” (I look at the clock.) “5.46am!”  
“And? You need to get up, we have shit to do.” He hands me some jeans and a shirt.  
“Um, come again? Maybe start at the part about why exactly you’re here, in my dorm, waking me up and not your own brother!”  
“Chill, Malfoy. Loads of people get up this early. And get dressed, I’m not gonna look. I’m not! I’m not gay, jeez.”  
I roll my eyes, and pull my pyjama top off. He’s still sat on the end of my bed. “Nice abs.” He smirks.  
At this, I shove him off onto the floor.  
“So,” James carries on. “I want you to come to see McGonagall with me before breakfast. And before you yell at me, I asked Claudette out last night, and she said no. Again! I need to pull her before it’s too late.” He sighs melodramatically.  
“It’s Saturday!” I complain. “I wanted a lie-in!”  
“Shh! You’ll wake your roommates. I know, but once it’s done, it’s done! And you do keep putting it off…” James’ tone turns very persuasive.  
“Right, fine! Now, you’ll bloody well get out whilst I put pants on.” I snap, knowing there’s no good way of getting out of this.  
****  
James knocks on the Headmistress’ door. He’s promised me all the way here that she’ll definitely be up by now, and there’s no way she’d be mad at us for coming at such an ungodly hour. ‘We’re her favourites, by default,’ he had declared. ‘Well, I am, because of Dad… And I’m sure she likes you too – for a Slytherin, you’re a good one, and you’re Al’s best mate.’  
The door snaps open. “Yes?” He’s right on one account – McGonagall is up and dressed.  
“Professor,” I start.  
“- Can we come in?” James shoots her a dazzling smirk. “We just have an important matter to discuss.”  
She raises her eyebrows, but lets us walk past her into the big office.  
“So,” James plonks down in one of the two chairs in front of her desk. She takes her seat behind it.  
“Why don’t I explain?” I nudge James firmly. “Yes, so, Professor, James and I have come here on request from another student. Claudette Charpente?”  
She actually sighs at the mention of Claudette’s name. I just knew this would go well.  
“She’s really unhappy here, Professor. She misses home, and France, and Beauxbatons…” And she hates the uniform here, the boys, the lessons, the cold. Maybe not. “And she feels like she won’t be ever able to fully adjust and settle in to Hogwarts.” I’m making this up as I go along. I look sideways at James, signalling now is the time to butt in. He takes the hint.  
“Yeah, she’s struggling with some of the students, too – she feels like they’re a bit prejudiced against her. She wonders if perhaps you’d contact her parents and let her go back to her old school?”  
“My question, boys, is why Miss Charpente could not come and request this from me herself?”  
James and I exchange looks. ‘Because you hate each other’, probably isn’t the best answer.  
“She knows that she – erm – hasn’t exactly got off on the right foot since starting here. I think Claudette knows you’d be more likely to listen to it if it came from us…?” I finish hopefully.  
McGonagall leans back in her chair, and folds her hands on the wooden table. James and I hold our breath.  
“No. That will not be possible. I really appreciate your dedication, the two of you, but if it is simply to gain Miss Charpente’s affections, then I do question your motives.” She gives James a firm look.  
“You see, her parents signed a contract with me to say that I would have her educated here for the duration of her seventh year studies. They felt that Beauxbatons syllabus was just not well-rounded enough for their daughter, and I must say I agree, although it did take them a lot of persuasion for us to take her. To send her back now is simply out of the question.”  
“But Professor,” James whines, “She hates it here! We said we’d help!”  
“Well, you’ll just have to break the news to Miss Charpente yourself. I’m sure if she applies herself to Hogwarts’ life fully, she will soon adjust. Now, I have work to do, if you would be so kind.” She flicks her wand at the door, and it springs open.  
James and I stand up, thank McGonagall sombrely, and leave.  
“That went well.” James mutters. “Now how will I get her to like me!”  
“Is that all you think about? Be glad, you’ve got a whole year to do it now.”  
James stares at me like that thought has never crossed his mind. “Wow, Malfoy! You really are cleverer than you let on! I’m gonna go tell her she’s got me for a whole year, now!”  
And he rushes off without so much as a backwards glance. This is what I got up at quarter to six for, I think crossly.  
Poor Claudette. She should have known I couldn’t have swung it for her. Still, I feel pretty guilty. I almost hope she and James end up in a happy relationship – at least then something good will have come out of this little failure of ours.  
“SCORPIUS MALFOY! GET HERE RIGHT NOW!” Merlin’s pants, it’s 7am! What is it with people wanting me this morning!  
“DO YOU WANT TO KEEP YOUR PLACE ON THE TEAM, OR WHAT?” Um, why does that sound suspiciously like Draven’s voice? Why would he be yelling this early on a Saturday… Oh. Crap. Crappity crap with knobs on. I am so dead. Saturday. Quidditch match Saturday. Early practice before Quidditch match Saturday.  
Why am I like this? James. Let’s blame him.

“Draven, shit, I’m so sorry!” I pant, after sprinting into the foyer to find him. “I heard your voice, I was coming to breakfast – “ I clutch the stitch in my side and gesture up the stairs from where I’ve just run.  
“Yeah, you would’ve heard it,” he growls, “I magically amplified it, you idiot! Explain.”  
He starts walking to the pitch. I follow, still breathing heavily. “James…” pant, “Wanted me to – help him… With, you know – Claudette Charpente. She – wants,” pant, “to leave Hogwarts, so we,” pant “went… to McGonagall for her.”  
“And you… Forgot?”  
“Yes! I – am so sorry… I full-on promise to never do it again!”  
“Get on the pitch. Last warning, Malfoy!”  
I don’t need telling twice. I sprint over to where the rest of the team are stood. Al is trying very hard not to laugh, he keeps smirking at me, from where he’s warming up.  
“I woke up, and you’d gone,” he mutters. “Figured you had got an early breakfast, or summat.”  
I get ready to explain, but he holds his broom-free hand up. “James bumped into me on his way to find Claudette. I mean, I never thought McGonagall would listen to you, if I’m honest.” He shrugs.  
I shake my head at him. Now’s the time? Really?  
“Less talking, more practising!” Draven yells over. I don’t want to push my luck, so I grab my broom and go. We just have to win this match. I need to score about fifty goals to balance out this awful morning.  
**** “Aaand, they’re off!” The commentator, who is, one of James’ mates – Rhys Warbeck, calls over the microphone.  
“So, Damaris Keat from Slytherin has the Quaffle, she passes to – wait, no, she’s intercepted by the Hufflepuff Chaser Mitchell, who takes it and flies all the way – oh, will she? Yes! She’s scored and…”  
Dammit! I hover on my broom, looking down at the crowd of spectators. It feels like just a couple of days ago Rose was stood there, wishing me luck. Now there’s no way I could spot her in the tens of redheads dotted about. I need luck now, too.  
I catch Damaris eye as the game prepares to start again. She swerves to face me, and nods firmly. It’s our first match of the season – we need to win. Above, Al is stationary, holding out for the first sign of the Snitch. You can literally breathe in the tension.  
“Right, Gryffindor have the Quaffle, nice pass there from O’Leary, to Cardwell, to Hitch, and – wait, Slytherin intercept! Nice dodge of a Bludger there from Malfoy, he passes to Draven - back to Malfoy who, shoots and… scores! And that’s 10 points for Slytherin…”  
Yes, too right.  
It happens as I’m walking back to the common room. To celebrate our win, someone’s organised ‘festivities’. Al was carried on some seventh year’s shoulders down there, after his spectacular spot of the Snitch, and I followed behind. That was when I saw it – or rather them. Everyone’s favourite Gryffindors. Alec and Victor, stood very close to a statue of a warlock, near the dungeons  
For a second, I think, oh well – I’ll just ignore that and mind my own business. But then I see Rose. Of course. Someone up there is really having fun with my life this week.  
“Alright there, Weasley?” I try and inject some confidence into my tone. It doesn’t work. Alec and Victor (who are stood in front of her, trapping her between them and the statue) turn sharply round.  
Victor sneers. “Boyfriend come to save you?”  
Rose blanches. I try not to think about the fact the last time we spoke was when she was similarly pressed up against a wall, but in a very different way. Snap out of it, Scorpius! Now is not the time to think those kind of thoughts.  
“Well, boyfriend - no. Saving, however - yes.” I pull myself up to my full height, knowing I’m just slightly taller than they are.  
“Oh, shut it, Malfoy.” Rose snaps. I look at her in shock. Now? Really? “I’m not some damsel in distress. I don’t need your little help.”  
“Oh?” I raise my eyebrows and smirk. “Shall I leave then?”  
Rose doesn’t say anything. Maybe she knows I know that I won’t.  
“Sorry to interrupt this little lovers tiff,” Alec spits, “But we have some more important details to discuss.”  
They both move to turn their backs on me again, and Rose shifts herself closer to the statue in response. I clear my throat. They ignore me. Alec leans to mutter something in Victor’s ear. They both laugh, and then Victor pulls out his wand. Okay, so this is not really the way I imagined saving Rose would go, but we can work with this…  
“I’ll get McGonagall!” I threaten, which comes out a lot more six-year-old-girl-ish than I mean it too.  
“Ah, shit, Vic!” Alec cries, and clutches his hand to his chest. “What on earth will we do?” He laughs harshly. “Hm, how about this?”  
He shoots a spell at me, and I only just manage to cast a Protego before it can hit me in the chest. Right, so this is how it’s gonna be. Fine. I pull out my own wand, and yell Stupefy back at him. He dodges the red spell neatly, but they both advance on me, wands out.  
I look at Rose for help – she’s the best at spellwork, we all know that. As if reading my mind, Victor flicks his wand in her direction, and chains shoot round her waist, locking her to the wall. She yelps in shock, but Victor pockets her wand at the same moment, stopping her from doing anything.  
Surely they can’t get away with this? Surely someone will come this way? I can’t fight them both at once.  
“Sectumsempra!” Alec points his wand at me, and I dodge it. I rush behind the corner, and pause, my breathing shallow, as they aim more non-verbal spells towards me. Think, Scorp! What would Rose do? What would Al do?  
“Levicorpus!” I yell, scooting back out into the corridor. Victor, as I’d hoped, is flung up into the air, and dangles by his ankle. In his surprise, Alec turns and looks up at his friend – in this split second, I point my wand at Rose, and Diffindo her chains.  
“Run!” I shout, hoping that for once she’ll listen to me. She doesn’t. Instead, she looks up at Victor – thinking, I’m sure, about her wand. Alec is in the middle of the pair of us, evidently not sure which one of us to go for. He chooses Rose, and takes a step towards her, his wand outstretched.  
“Accio wand!” I call, and Rose’s zooms down from Victor’s pocket and into my hand. I toss it over Alec’s head and she catches it. Alec turns back to me, enraged. Pity he doesn’t know the counter-curse for his friend, I think, and smirk at him.  
Taking advantage of his turned back, Rose shouts, “Petrificus Totalus!” at him, the same moment he makes to curse me. Luckily the words never leave his lips, as he falls forward, flat and immobile, on the corridor floor.  
Now we run.  
And, for the second time today – I bump into our Headmistress. What perfect timing.  
“Explain.” she snaps, seeing the two of them in the background, and our dishevelled appearance.  
So I do.  
Rose leaves somewhere in the midst of it; somewhere around the point where McGonagall’s eyebrows rise so far up her head I think they’ll shoot right into her hair.  
She says nothing when I’ve finished. She doesn’t even take points from our House, which is completely unbelievable. She just walks firmly over to Alec and Victor, and I don’t stay to watch her help them up, or question them. Although as I leave, I’m sure I hear her mutter something that sounds like ‘But I have no proof, Malfoy. What can I do?’  
Maybe I’m hearing things. I’m about to forget everything, and head back to the common room to debrief Al, when I walk pass a Defence class, with its door ajar. Of course. Rose. I’d almost forgotten.  
Rose is sat on one of the tables in the Defence room. Her feet dangle off the floor, and she glances up when she sees me come in. I take a seat on the table opposite her, and tap my toe on hers.  
“Alright?” I don’t know how to act, how to be around her, with everything that’s gone on between us.  
“No. Don’t ask stupid questions.”  
“Sorry.” I mean it, this time. “That must’ve been pretty shit, for you…”  
“Yeah, it was. And I don’t need your help to deal with it, like I –“  
“Yeah, yeah. I know. Rose Granger-Weasley, feminist extraordinaire, too cool and too brave to be rescued by a mere guy…” I roll my eyes, and expect her to snap back. But she surprises me, as usual.  
“You think I’m brave?” Her tone is odd, and her eyes are fierce.  
I shrug, and pull a face, caught off-guard. “Mm.” There’s a long pause. I probably shouldn’t be here, after all.  
“Well,” I start, “I’d better go then, before – in fact, let’s not get into what happened last time we were-“  
In the time it’s taken to say those words, Rose has pushed herself up off the table and into my arms. She looks at me for a millisecond, before taking my hands and pulling me off the table to stand with her. My shock is replaced by the rush of adrenaline that comes with her touch, and I forget that we’re meant to hate each other; that we agreed before that - this - was a huge mistake.  
The tip of her nose touches mine, and she’s so close I can count each of her freckles across it. She smells gorgeous: sweet, like berries, and heady – I never want to stop breathing her in.  
“What are we waiting for?” she whispers, and I can feel each word bounce from her mouth. I break the gap between us, and kiss her fiercely. All at once, it’s like a drug. My hands hold her cheeks, move to her jaw, and she presses herself closer to me, hooking her arms round my neck, her lips firm on mine.  
She wraps her legs round me, and I lift her up, taking a step forward. Our lips don’t break apart. She leans back to sit on the table behind, and I stand up in front of her. She curls her legs further around my waist, pulling me closer to her. I open my eyes, just as she opens hers. We both breathe heavily, our skin tingling. I’ve never kissed anyone like this before.  
I mean, it’s probably the adrenaline from the fight, or the need for comfort after going through that, or… you know what, I give up. I’ve run out of excuses. Okay. It’s just because kissing Rose Weasley - like this - feels really fucking awesome.  
****  
I don’t know how I manage to keep this little development from Al. Of course, I tell him about the whole scene with Alec and Victor, (who we basically could start calling the ‘Neo-Voldemorts.’) and he reacts in all the right ways, equal parts furious and horrified. He attempts to bring McGonagall back into it, but I tell him what I think she said – we don’t have proof. How can she believe it was anything more than just a bit of a dispute between students?  
I mean, they had Rose chained to the bloody wall, for Merlin’s sake.  
So, Rose – back to that. Miraculously, I don’t blurt it out to Al, although he keeps giving me odd looks, or starting to say something, but stopping abruptly. Merlin forbid he guesses – Rose scares me, sure, but she’ll seem like a fluffy Pigmy Puff compared to Al, if he finds out I've snogged his favourite cousin twice.  
And as for her, we’re avoiding each other again. There’s only stolen glances across their common room, or in Defence, or sometimes at meals. We make eye contact and I feel this buzz of having a secret just the two of us know. Not that it’ll ever happen again, of course. And not that we’ll ever speak about it, probably, either.  
Although it was a bloody good kiss. Maybe that was just the sexual tension. I mean, our hormones are raging right now, aren’t they? Or it could have been we just have good physical chemistry – something like that. Whatever. What’s important is we put it behind us.  
This is what I tell myself as Al and I go to meet them all in the Room of Requirement. It’s partly to overanalyse and gossip about what’s happened, (with Alec and Victor, obviously, not me and Rose), and partly to make a plan to save James.  
It’ll be the first time I've had to have a proper conversation with Rose though, since the first kiss. I mean, the second one doesn’t really count.  
“You alright?” Al asks as we reach the corridor.  
“Oh, yeah, good, yep. Just, you know, tired. It’s been a long week.” I say quickly.  
“You can say that again,” Al rolls his eyes, evidently buying it, and pulls the door open to the Room. As usual, we’re late, and the gang’s sat down.  
“Hey,” Al grins. As much as he tries to disguise it, I know how much this motley crew of his cousins and friends makes him feel better. Of course, we’re both fully resigned to being Slytherins, but I do wonder if he wishes sometimes he had got Gryffindor.  
I plonk down on a beanbag and Al chooses a chair. Dom, Dax, Freddie, Rose and Thea greet us from their perches round the room.  
“Do you even want to talk about it?” Fred pipes up straight away, but the question is mostly directed at Rose, rather than the both of us. He stretches his feet out from the beanbag, and glances at Dax, then over at me and Al. “Because I had some really cool news ab–“  
“Fred, please,” Dom cuts in, sounding remarkably like Professor Chang. “Of course we need to talk about it! We need to help Rose and Scorp make sense of their confused emotions and get out of the traumatic state the event has left them in.”  
Rose and I exchange bemused looks, our history forgotten in light of this nonsense from Dom.  
She catches sight of our incredulous faces. “Kidding!” she laughs. “But I reckon it’d help you to, you know, talk. Why don’t you just tell us what happened, like fully?”  
What a little counsellor she is. But this idea is significantly better than the last, so Rose and I start the story. Well – Rose talks and I interject when I know better.  
“I don’t know what they wanted from me, actually.” she muses at one point. “They never quite got round to saying. They were too busy giving threats, and then when Malfoy came they sort of got distracted.”  
“I bet it was to do with James!” Dax declares.  
“Wow, aren’t you the clever one?” Dom rolls her eyes. “You should join up with Flint and Creed, you’re right in their league.”  
“They’ve done that before, though, haven’t they?” Al chips in. “With me, and with Lily. Rose was probably next on their list.”  
“The question is,” I add, “What has he done that’s got them going this far?”  
“Or what do they want to know about him?” Thea suggests.  
“We could do with a double agent,” Fred says, after a pause. “Someone to find out. That way we actually can help James, when we know what they’re after.”  
Dom nods. Rose looks up. “That’s a good idea, actually. But it can’t be one of us, though, so who?”  
“I know,” Dax says quickly. “They’d fall head over heels for her. Everyone does. And she owes you a favour, Scorp.”  
“Claudette.” I finish. Well – whoever else? Just as I thought I was rid of the French girl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this isn't as on time as usual! Have been very busy with training - struggled to make the weekly slot at all :// anyways, hope you enjoy how things are getting going now -L


	14. A Plan is Put Into Action

“Claudette! Hey, _Claudette_!” I catch her as she comes out of Potions.

“I ‘ate zat lesson,” she grumbles, flicking her long auburn layers back. “What ees eet, Scorpeeus? Ooh, has McGonagall reeconseedered her decision?”

“Um, no, it isn’t that.” I say. “Shall we walk?”

She stops in the corridor, puts one hand on her hip. She looks at me so fiercely I quiver a little, with her big blue eyes narrowed. What _now?_

“I swear to Merlin, eef you are ‘itting on me like all zose other leetle sixth years, I will-“

“Oh, no no _no_.” I say quickly. “No, I just have a favour I was wondering if you’d do for me. Well, not _me_ specifically, more like James…”

****

“I asked Claudette,” I say brightly, as I come down the stairs into the Hall foyer. (Dom is waiting at the bottom.) “She says she’ll do it.”

“Don’t you mean _do eet?_ ” Dom corrects, putting on a French accent, in a good imitation of Claudette. “That’s good. The quicker we find out, the better.”

I meet her at the bottom, and we walk towards the main door. “Where’s Thea?” I ask. “Don’t tell me she’s got a Hagrid complex, like Al?”

“Oh, no. But she takes Divination, and Firenze has set them a really big essay she wants to get done before tomorrow.”

“Ah, I-“ But before I can finish my sentence, there’s an interruption. Dom has her hand on the door to go outside, but she turns at the shout from just behind us.

“Dom, Malfoy!” It’s Rose.

“Oh, hey!” Dom flicks her blonde hair back and grins. “Thought you had Athrimancy?”

“It was cancelled,” she glances at me, then adds, “Are you going to see Hagrid? Mind if I join?”

“Sure! We’re not on a blondes-only date, are we, Scorp?” She elbows me, and I know what she’s really trying to say – _be nice, Scorp. She’s making an effort too._

And I’m not even mad. Really. A couple of months ago, I probably would’ve left if Rose was coming along – now, the dynamic has shifted. I vaguely worry about awkwardness, but we’ve kept The Kiss from everyone so far, I’m sure we can keep up the act.

Although, saying that, I’m only human, and I doubt Rose will ever completely _not_ irritate me. So in my best sarcastic tone, I can’t help but add,

“’Course. I’m sure three isn’t _really_ a crowd, after all.” And I pull the door open, and walk out first.

I can almost hear Dom sigh, and Rose roll her eyes. Well, they can’t expect six years of hating her to just go, like that, can they? Even if we did kiss.

Dom knocks on Hagrid’s door. We can see the lights on inside, and hear Fang’s barks, so we’re of no doubt that he’s in.

“We really need him to help us,” Dom says desperately, waiting for the door to be opened.

“Keep your chin up, he might know something he doesn’t even realise is info, Dom.” Rose chips in. Of course, we forgot Rose knows Everything about Everything.

“’Ello, you lot! ‘Ere, come in, come in! Not seen yeh in a while – Scorpius, blimey, yeh’re like a stranger! Dominique, Rosie, the two o’ yeh are lookin’ as beau’iful as ever!” Hagrid beams down at us as he throws the door open, his crinkly eyes shining.

We all take seats at the big dining table. Hagrid rakes his hand through his shaggy hair, then stands up. “Tea? Woul’ yeh like a slice o’ lemon cake?”

We decline the cake, but accept the tea, and as Hagrid places the pot on the fire, Dom leans in.

“So, we’re asking him for help, definitely? Telling him the full story?”

“Yes.” Rose is adamant. She turns to him as he sits back down.

“Hagrid? We’ve got something to talk to you about…”

“Yeh? Wha’ever it is, I’ll do meh best to help yeh.” He looks sad, for a moment, and I wonder if he’s thinking about the empty seat at the table, the one that could be filled with a certain Potter godson of his. If he is, he doesn’t let on. There’s always a slight frostbite to the atmosphere at these moments, but no one dwells on it, and Rose ploughs on.

“Okay. So, you know Alec and Victor, James’ friends? Well, we’ve had a couple of run-ins with them lately, I guess you could say that, they’re getting pretty dark. Violent, and scheming, and stuff.”

“Those two? Really? I though’ they were alrigh’ sorts…”

Dom and I exchange dark looks.

“Well, the thing is,” Rose carries on, “We wondered if you knew anything. The other day, they cornered me after a Quidditch match, wanting to know something about James – we _think_. And I don’t know what would have happened if, well – if Scorpius hadn’t been there when he was.”

I look at her. It’s the first time she’s used my name, in I don’t even know how long. The sound of it sends a chill right through me. It’s also the first time she’s thanked me, in so many words. It feels… Different. Like that one sentence has changed everything. Maybe I was wrong. _Maybe_ there actually _is_ more than just sexual tension and irritation between us.

Rose carries on, not meeting my eye. “We don’t know what’s happened between them and James that’s making them like this – and James just ignores the whole thing,” she rolls her eyes, “In his usual blasé way.”

“Well, yeh know James,” Hagrid muses. “Won’t know what’s hit ‘im till it’s shakin’ ‘im by the head.” He smiles fondly.

“Well, yes. But that’s the problem. Alec and Victor are getting worse and worse, James is ignoring it, he won’t make up or have it out with them – they’ve started on us, we didn’t know what to do!”

“Ah, but you lot, if I know yeh at all yeh’ll have done summat. Come on, let’s have it.”

“Well,” I answer this one. “You know Claudette Charpente? The new girl? Well, I’ve asked her to get friendly with them, see what it is that’s causing all this...”

“Chaos.” Rose finishes.

“ _But_ –“ Dom adds. “We don’t know her very well, she may just get caught up reading _Witch Weekly_ and forget completely what she’s meant to be looking for.”

“So, fancy giving us a helping hand, Hagrid?” Rose gives him her sweetest smile. “Know anything about the three of ‘em?”

“Well…” Hagrid strokes Fang’s head absent-mindedly, thinking. “I did hear tha’ they’re stayin’ over Christmas. Alec an’ Victor, I mean.”

The three of us look at each other. No one stays here if they can help it. Besides Harry Potter, of course. We know what this means.

****

“Hey, Dom? Would you give us a minute?” Rose stops, and gestures to me as we reach the Great Hall doors.

Dom looks utterly perplexed. “ _What?_ I swear, if I come back to the two of you duelling! Although, you have been better recently… And I do need to see Thea…” She seems to be going through some mental strain. “Okay. No fighting! Need me to take your wands? No? Well, see you later then.” She gives us a very stern look before departing.

And I turn to Rose, the two of us, in the foyer.

“You called me Scorpius.” I blurt.

“Yes.” No hint of uncertainty.

“ _Why?”_

“Well, I… Slip of the tongue, that’s why.”

That doesn’t sound too convincing. I place my hands on her waist, and my lips brush her own, sweet and soft. Merlin. I think I actually have a problem. Why are we like this?

She’s just as gentle. This feels so different from the others. Her curls tickle my cheek, and she breaks apart an inch.

“I swear I didn’t have an ulterior motive, she whispers. I laugh. “I was just gonna say, you don’t have to stay at school. For Christmas. I know that our family’s really big, and close-knit, they’ll always be there. And there’s so many of us, missing couple of kids won’t make a difference! But you, you’re an only child… I wouldn’t want you to miss out.”

We’re still stood too close, in the middle of the foyer, but I press my forehead to hers. “I want to stay.” I murmur. “I’m in this deep now. Like the rest of you.”

She kisses me softly again. “Good.”

“Good?” I twirl one hand into her hair.

“Yeah. Things are always more interesting, when you’re around.”

That’s a new one. “Like this?” I press my lips to her jaw.

“Yes…” she sighs. “But… We’ve got to stop.”

“I know.” I agree. “Although it has made us get along better…”

She laughs. “Who knew? It’s not even been that awkward, really.”

“Still…” I say.

“Still. This can be the last time.”

“Definitely.” I pull her to one side, round the corner, out of sight. I pepper her skin with little kisses.

“Scorpius!” she exclaims. Now I’ve heard her say my name, I don’t want her to ever stop.

“What? I’m making the last one good.” I smirk, and sound mock-innocent.

“Do you miss her?” Rose breathes, after a moment.

I don’t ask who. “No.” I say, truthfully. “I miss not having someone to think about, and do stuff with… But I don’t miss _her._ I haven’t even thought about it much, really.” And I haven’t. It’s almost as if those months with Aria didn’t even happen.

“I thought… I was just filling that gap, you know, for you.”

“You are. Of course. I know you don’t mean it.” I say quickly. “But shall I tell you something? You’re a better kisser than she was.”

Rose blushes. “Oi. Feeding my ego just to get a snog.” And then, “We _were_ meant to me discussing Christmas…”

I grin. “We have. And it’s decided. We just need to start digging, now. But whilst we’re here…” I wink at her suggestively, and she pushes her lips back to mine, bringing that rush again.

****

It’s a week before Christmas when it happens. The operation to expose Alec and Victor. We’re sending Claudette in as bait, and I personally think she deserves an Order of Merlin, that one - she’s been flirting constantly with the Terrible Two for about three weeks now, and I mean, that’s no easy feat. She sneaks off to Gryffindor common room, twirls her hair round her finger and unashamedly giggles at everything they say. Tonight, she’s meeting Alec outside the popular snogging spot (where I caught Philips and Rose back at the anniversary), and the gang and I plan to find out exactly what they’re so het up about.

I catch Al coming from the Library, as I’m walking to our meeting-place.

“Excited for our stakeout?” He asks breezily.

“I mean, I wouldn’t go that far – the word ‘melodramatic’ comes to mind.” I smirk.

“I just hope Claudie pulls through,” he sighs, as we head upstairs. The others have found a convenient empty classroom for us to hide in, and poached some leftover Extendable Ears from Freddie so we can still listen in.

“I’m sure she’ll do it. I reckon she’s smarter than we give her credit for, you know…”

“Hey!” Al exclaims. “I was just gonna say, then – ‘oh be careful, don’t let Aria hear you say that’ –“

“But then you remembered?” I finish.

“Yeah.”

“I’ve done that a few times. It’s weird – it doesn’t feel like three weeks since, but at the same time it feels like another lifetime.”

“Do you miss her?”

I’m just about to say, ‘Rose asked me that!’ but then _I_ remember Al doesn’t know about that little situation. So instead I just say the same as I did to her. “No, I don’t actually. Like I’m starting to think we weren’t even that good together, really. I was pretty much just a power move for her –because I’m friends with you lot and I'm fit, or whatever.”

“I mean, I’m not gonna lie, mate,” Al grins at me. “But I always thought you could do better. She was a little… Fake? Perfection-obsessed?”

We get into the classroom at exactly that point, and Fred, Dom and Thea are there. “Sshh!” Dom whisper-shouts. Al looks apologetic, and puts his hands up in defeat.

 “Sorry!” he hisses back. Guess that ends that conversation.

We perch on the tables with the other three, facing the door.

“We’re waiting on Rose now,” Dom explains. “And of course, Claudette and Alec. We’ve got to be silent, though, or it’ll scupper the plan.” she whispers.

“Alright, bossy boots,” Fred rolls his eyes, and swings his legs back and forth. Dom sticks her tongue out at him.

Rose appears at the door at this moment. “He’s almost here!” she hisses. “I had to go the long way to avoid him catching up.”

She comes and sits on the other side of me. I say nothing, but I feel myself tense as she does it, and I’m suddenly very aware of every single movement I make.

“Okay.” Dom says. Fred starts to hand out Extendable Ears. “So, we want to know _what_ their problem with James is, and _why_ it’s lead to them attacking his family members in the corridors.”

“And whether James knows all this, and is just not telling _us.”_ Rose adds darkly.

“And Claudette’s prepped to get these answers, is she?” Al looks to me.

“Yes. I told her everything.” Over Butterbeers at the Three Broomsticks, last Hogsmeade weekend, to be precise.

“Good.” Rose says firmly, and I turn to her. She gives the tiniest of smiles. “It’s less faff that way.”

I shrug, and turn back. We may be civil, now, and we may have kissed three times – but it has to end. May as well go back to normal, I say. I plug the Ears in, and watch all the little ends snake under the door. Alec is leaning against the wall outside – arms folded, legs crossed, evidently waiting for Claudette. And, as usual, is scowling.

I lean back behind Fred and Al and poke Dom.

“Did you put up enchantments? Like Muffliato and stuff?” I ask.

“Don’t doubt us, Malfoy,” her eyes are fixed on the door. “We look like a brick wall right now, I'm pretty sure. And sound like one, too. Now shush, before we miss it.”

So I roll my eyes and do what she says.

“…’Ello, darleeng!” Claudette arrives, and kisses the air next to Alec’s cheek.

He pulls back a little and frowns at her.

“What ees eet?” She puts a hand on his arm. That girl is a good actress, it’s got to be said.

“You’re single, right?” He gives her a long look.

“Of course!” She flicks back her hair. “No one at zis _delightful_ school has been good enough for me – yet!”

“Right. And I don’t want no… Strings attatched, you get me?”

“I agree totally, darleeng!” I don’t know when the ‘darleeng’ has come in, but I rate it. It’s like she’s this upper class Parisian lady, going out of her way to speak to the peasants.

“Good.” Alec says gruffly, and shockingly actually has the grace to open the door for her. They go into the Room, and the string from our Ears follows in, under the crack in the door.

I hope Claudette gets our information quickly, I don’t know how much of this scene I can stand. It’s like watching a train wreck: disturbing, but you can’t look away. Adding to the general discomfort, I’m also hyper-aware of Rose’s presence next to me, every time she says something about Alec and Claudette, or when she shifts a little bit and her skin brushes mine. It’s horribly distracting. I mean, it’s pretty unfair she has to be so _hot,_ really.

“This is the good bit!” Dom interrupts my thoughts, hissing to everyone and gesturing to the Extendable Ears. “Listen, Fred and I left the happy couple a gift!”

“Is it just me that thinks she’s taking this a _little_ too far?” Rose leans in to me, laughing in my ear. I’m too surprised to do anything but smile back, but that’s okay because at that moment, there’s an exclamation from Alec.

“James Potter!?” He splutters, and I hear the crinkling of paper.

Al, Rose and I turn and look accusingly at Dom.

“So, there’s this note we put in Claudie’s pocket, basically it says ‘see you tonight,’ on it, and it’s signed from James,” Dom whispers, and her and Fred exchange conspiratory looks, but don’t need to say any more. Well, it’s a good way to bring up the guy in question, I guess.

“Non, you ‘ave eet wrong,” Claudette interrupts, her voice pleading.

“Explain, then.” Alec’s voice takes its usual menacing low tone.

“He was ‘elping me study! You see, I am terrible at… Potions! I can’t get the ‘ang of all ze leetle ingredients, we did not have nonsense like zat in France, let me tell you…”

You can almost hear Alec cocking an eyebrow.

“So eet was just one time,” she carries on. “And then I realised what an… idiot that boy is, and we deed not plan anymore – we had just argued too much!”

The five of us hold our breath, waiting for Alec’s response.

“Good. Good.” He exhales. “I… well, let’s just say I’m glad that’s what it was.”

“Why?” Claudette asks, in her thick French accent. “I thought you boys were friends?”

Al looks at Dom as Claudette says this. “Did you tell her about the note?” He asks.

Dom looks a bit sheepish. “No, we didn’t want to risk anyone overhearing – but she did improvise well, don’t you think?”

Al nods, but before he can say anything else, Rose shushes us all.

“It’s a pretty fucked up story…” Alec says.

“Well, we ‘ave lots of time.”

“I don’t want to talk, anyway. I’m sure there’s – better – things we could be doing,” there’s a crackle of clothing as he says this, and I try and get rid of the image of him coming onto her.

“Oh, but I am interested! Let’s ‘ear the faults in perfect leetle James Potter,” Claudette croons.

“Right. Fine, but then we get to business, yeah?” Only an idiot like Alec would call pre-arranged making out ‘business’.

“Oh, of course, darleeng.”

I don’t even want to think about what they’re doing that is making that noise. Next to me, Rose winces.

“So – Potter. Known him since first year, obviously. My mate Victor and I got in with him early, directions from the parents, you know the shit. ‘Make friends with the Potter boy, Alec, honey – he’ll be a good jewel in the crown for later on’, they said. So, we were tight, for a while. Sure – it pissed me off all the attention he gets from girls, and his Quidditch skills, and stuff-“

“-And ‘ow all ze teachers ‘ave a soft spot for their favourite rebel?” Claudette interrupts, drawing out the ‘el’ in the last word.

“Exactly.” Alec agrees. You can tell he’s pleased she gets it. “But I guess, overall it had its benefits.” He doesn’t elaborate, and I wonder what it’s like to be the sort of person who needs to always have friends in high places.

“Since coming back though, Victor and I have pretty much had it. I don’t know why, but Potter’s even more big fucking headed than usual. And it’s bad enough that I don’t even like the guy in the first place, but when he’s acting like a right _prick…_ Well, it’s enough to make anyone sick.”

“Of course eet ees.” Claudette soothes.

“So, we planned a little, _intervention_ for Potter – take him down a notch or two, show him who’s in charge here, you get me? Well, we waited back after a Hogsmeade trip late September, intending to just scare him, rough him up a bit, the works, really. But we overheard a conversation as he was walking back…”

You can hear the smirk in his voice, and I don’t like the edge his tone has taken.

“Go on,” Claudette urges. The five of us lean in, closer to the door. I push the Ears further into my own.

“Some serious _shit,_ it was. Let’s just say we didn’t need to have our intervention no more. So, we’re gonna drop a few hints, make him squirm for a while, and then tell him we know his little secret. And after that, he won’t need no reminding of who’s boss.”

“What did you hear?” Claudette murmurs. Come on, I think. We’re so close now.

“Well, that’d be telling, wouldn’t it, babe?” Alec laughs, but there’s no humour there.

“No!” Fred swears, and I shake my head. Dom leans back and groans. Even Al looks pissed off.

“Shush!” Rose hisses. “There’s still time.”

“Oh, go on,” Claudette tries. “You can trust me, you know. I ‘ave a few secrets of my own that would impress you.”

“Nah. Don’t wanna risk it. And it hasn’t all been plain sailing since then, you know. Little Jamesie is cracking, we think, but recently – well, we’re not sure how much he actually cares about it getting out.”

“So are you going to geeve up, like just tell everyone and leeve eet there?”

Alec scoffs. “Give up? Who do you think I am, Charpente? No. We’re going _bigger.”_

The five of us look at each other in horror. Rose lets out a long sigh, and I put my head in my hands. Wow. I didn’t think it could get much worse – evidently we were wrong.


	15. A Visit Home

The next day, we’re dissecting every word of last night’s conversation (you can blame Dom and Rose) when there’s an interruption.

“I think he was lying, like showing off for ol’ Claudie,” says Dax.

“ _We know,”_ Dom rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, that’s about the tenth time you’ve told us, Dax,” Rose agrees.

“That’s not the problem, though, is it?” Al argues. We’re sprawled out in the Room, Al and I slightly muddy and sweaty from Quidditch practice, the rest just lazing around, making the most of the Room’s roaring fire, as it’s a particularly cold Saturday morning.

“The issue is what he said last.”

“We know that too,” Fred adds. He’s leaning at the foot of Thea’s armchair.

“We’re going round in circles.” Rose frowns.

Then, there’s a knock at the door.

“What?” Fred yelps. We look at Dom and Rose, who are sat next to each other on the sofa.

“I think I forgot to ask for the place to be concealed, today… We were in too much of a rush!” Rose protests.

“Well, then, we’d better answer it,” Al gets up.

The door opens to reveal a rather scared-looking young Ravenclaw. She’s clutching a piece of paper and holds it out to Al as he leans against the doorframe. He looks down at her kindly.

“It’s for S-Scorpius Malfoy. Once he’s read it, can he please follow the instructions and then g-go to the Headmistress’ office,” she squeaks.

Al shuts the door behind her and then tosses the note at me.

“What’ve ya been up to, Malfoy?” Dax laughs. “A summons from McGonagall herself, huh?” I’m just as confused as Dax is, as I tear open the envelope. They all lean over me to read what it says.

_Scorpius Malfoy,_

_Your father has requested you take a couple of days absence from the academic term, starting immediately, to spend it at your family home. This is in response to your choice to remain at Hogwarts over Christmas. Please pack any required belongings, and report to my office where you may use the Floo Network._

_Please do not broadcast this news, as I do not wish every man and his Hippogriff to be making recreational visits home._

_Professor McGonagall._

“Check you!” Fred wolf-whistles. “Daddy’s pulled some strings to get _that,_ I reckon!”

“Fred.” Rose chastises. “It’s your first time, isn’t it?” she addresses me. “Staying here at Christmas? They’ll be missing you.”

“Yeah…” I say. “They’ll be worried, and I guess that’s what this is about. Checking I’ve not gone insane or anything. But, I mean, they could have at least sent a letter first!”

“Well,” Dom shrugs. “Malfoys never do stuff by halves.”

Rose laughs, and folds up the letter from my hands. “ _You_ had better go pack. We’ll see you soon. _We_ had better start thinking properly how we stop this mess from getting bigger. Come on.”

Thea sighs, and Fred and Dax roll their eyes, but they all go back and sit down. Al stays stood up, and puts a hand on my shoulder.

“Have a good break, mate. If I’m dead when you get back, it’ll be because Flint and Crabbe jinxed me in the night, what with no one around to even up the numbers.” He grins.

“Wanna come with, then?” I joke.

He pulls a face. “I _might_ just brave it out, you know?”

I laugh, and head for the door as the rest of them call out goodbyes – I mock-salute as I reach for the handle. Rose is watching me as I go, and as the others turn back to their conversations, our eyes meet. It feels like we look at each other for a long moment, but it might only be a second before I break the stare and leave. There’s nothing to say, anyway. Yes, we’ve kissed. Yes, I know secrets about her even Dom might not. And, yes, we’ve hated each other’s guts since forever. But we need to let all this go now. It’s basically ancient history. Sort of. There’s more important things, anyway – like James, for example – oh, and why the hell my parents have suddenly pulled me out of school.

****

“Come in.” McGonagall sounds impatient before I even get into her office.

I push open the door, and am half expecting my dad to be sat in a chair there. Spoiler: he’s not.

“Morning, Malfoy,” McGonagall doesn’t look up from the papers in front of her. “I hope you didn’t spread this little event around?”

“No, Professor – I mean, I only told a few of my friends, they were there when I got the letter.”

“Well, here’s your Floo powder, then,” she pushes a little pot towards me, and then fixes me with a stern look. “This won’t be a regular thing, you are aware of that?”

“Yes, Professor.”

“Well, perhaps it’s your father I should be… Oh - nevermind. Safe journey, Malfoy.” And then she’s back to looking at her papers.

I take the Floo powder, and throw it into the flames.

“Malfoy Manor.” I say loudly.

Trying not to cough, I step out from the fireplace and into our lounge. It looks just the same as ever, and I’m being careful not to get ash onto our pristine white carpets when,

“Scorpius!” Mum calls, appearing in the doorway. “You look taller,” she frowns a little, putting her hands on my shoulders and then pulling me in for a hug.

“Taller than you, yeah,” I tease. “Where’s Dad?”

“Oh he was just coming… Things are so busy with his work, at the moment – _Draco_!? Scorpius has arrived!” she calls.

“Come on, you. Let’s have some tea, and you can tell us all about school,” she places a hand on my cheek, her dark eyes shining. “You’ll understand why he did this, I’m sure… It won’t seem so out of the blue when we’ve had a little catch up.”

So I follow Mum to the sitting room, choose my favourite armchair by the window, and try to get used to being back. Hetty is just bringing in the tea tray when Dad comes to join us.

I stand up and go to hug him, too.

“Afternoon, son.” He holds me at arm’s length and smiles. Out of the two of them, he’s the one I take after most. We have the same blonde hair, (both thick even though he’s approaching fifty), although mine’s more wavy and messy than his straight locks. We have the same smirk when we’re right about something, and the same tall, muscled build (although he’s lost a lot of those bad boys with age). I like to think I have Mum’s dark eyes though, and her easy-going temperament.

My parents take seats next to each other on the sofa, and their careful eyes stay on me.

“So…” I start. “Um, why have you –“

“Pulled you out of school?” Dad finishes my sentence. “You see, we were worried, Scorpius.” He fixes me with his usual stern look, and takes Mum’s hand in his. “What’s all this about you staying at that place over Christmas? Is it these friends of yours pressuring you?”

So that’s what this boils down to. Al. Well, no surprise there – Dad’s never liked my best friend, and right from first year warned me not to associate with him.

“No, Dad.” I roll my eyes. “I _chose_ to do it. It was all my decision! Al didn’t come into it, really,” I carry on, thinking of Rose. “There’s this… other student that we know,” (I decide not to drop James’ name into it) “And we’re worried that he’s struggling, like, at the moment. So a bunch of us have decided to stay and just make sure he’s alright.”

That sounds like a very parent-friendly explanation, doesn’t it? Particularly to a father whose son is best mates with his arch-enemy’s spawn.

“Is it someone we know?” Dad’s eyes narrow.

“No, I don’t think so,” I say quickly. I mean, _theoretically_ you know _of_ the Potter’s oldest son, but you’ve never met, so… that’s not a lie, really. “You don’t need to worry. I’m fine, honest.”

“As long as you’re not doing anything I wouldn’t,” Dad carries on, and I raise my eyebrows – for Merlin’s sake, he was a Death Eater at my age! “I want you to grow up to be someone I can be proud of, you understand? Be careful how you act in school now, because it will affect you later.”

“Yes, Dad.” I say dutifully. I might argue in my head, but there’s no way I’d invoke Dad’s icy temper if I can avoid it.

“So, how is school, Scorpius?” Mum smiles. “Any new girlfriends? Any gossip for us?”

Dad looks like the last thing he wants to hear about is Hogwarts gossip – and honestly, who would report back all the goings on to their parents anyway?

“No, Mum. Don’t worry, I’m not compromising my education for a girl,” I try to keep my tone normal. Not _a_ girl – two: before, it was Aria and now, in a roundabout way, it’s Rose.

“None of them are good enough for you anyway, son.” Dad interrupts. But Mum’s eyes have an unsettling twinkle in them, and I get an unnerving feeling she knows more than she’s letting on.

Just then, there’s a scuffle at the window, before the top pane opens itself, and a tiny piece of parchment flutters in. Even from here, I can see the Ministry emblem. Dad reaches up easily and plucks it out of the air, barely glancing at its contents before standing up.

“Work calls.” He nods at me, kisses the top of Mum’s head. “I’ll try to get off before tea – we’ll take Scorpius out somewhere,” he addresses Mum. “Try and book the Fallen Sphinx, would you?”

She agrees, and we both wave him off.

“So, Scorp,” Mum grins. She only calls me that when it’s just me and her. Dad’s not a fan of what he believes is too ‘casual’ a nickname. “What do you fancy doing? We’ve only got a week till Christmas… Shopping? I bet you’ve not bought half your gifts yet.”

“You’re not wrong,” I laugh. “And I think a few of my mates might be miffed if I turn up empty handed next week.”

“Diagon Alley, then? I’ll get Hetty to send for a Portkey,” she gets up and leaves. Perks of being a Malfoy, huh?

****

We spend an enjoyable afternoon mooching around Diagon Alley. The shops here are so much better than Hogsmeade – not that I’m complaining about the Scottish village, mind you.

Everyone’s Christmas gifts leave my money bag significantly lighter. I choose a new set of Chudley Cannon robes for Al, which aren’t cheap, mind you; some ace self-refilling perfume for Dom and Thea, and on a spur of the moment decision, grab some Quidditch tickets for the first season’s match for Fred, Dax, Al, and myself. Then I do something that I know will surprise everyone and simultaneously piques my Mum’s interest: I get Rose Weasley a gift.

I know we finished stuff after the last kiss, and I also know we should be back to hating each other – but the same pull that drew me to Rose draws me to this. I mean, I say that like it’s some Earth-shattering treasure that cost me 60 Galleons and a couple of House-Elves. In fact, it’s only a book.

‘ _Magical Futures: Life Rewritten for the Aspiring Individual_ ’ by Jareski Jules, is ‘A household staple needed to be on every young wizard’s shelf’, according to the _Prophet._

It is (from what I gather) a sort of self-help/come autobiography/come textbook, about life after school and how to “golden-pave all your pathways”. I mean, would I read it? No. But is it number one on ‘Best Books to Read NOW’ and a first-edition signed copy? Yes. So I’ve chosen the overpriced leather book, in the hope that Rose will actually like it and I won’t just look foolish. After all, it does _scream_ ‘Rose Weasley’, in my opinion - and I just couldn’t resist.

While Mum nips to Harlecia’s Hair and Beauty, I grab a gift for her and Dad, too. I choose him a nice set of new navy dress robes (he’s awful to buy for), and for Mum I get the new Celestina Warbeck album she’s been after. The last thing to come out of my money bag gets a nice box of Chocolate Cauldrons for them both.

It’ll be the first Christmas without my parents, and with my friends instead – I want to make it good. If they all like their gifts, hopefully they’ll be glad they invited me to stay along with them. And, not that I really feel like an outsider, but they all seem to be Al’s friends over my own. Maybe this Christmas will prove I’m just as worthy to be one of them.

As I head back to find Mum, it strikes me that it doesn’t feel weird, not buying anything for Aria. I haven’t been pining over gifts for your ‘significant other’ and wishing that I still had her to get them for. Perhaps I was just never as invested as I thought I was.

When we arrive back, though, Mum’s interest over the extra gift shows itself.

“Scorpius?” She’s waving her wand over stacks of Christmas cards, doing a fiddly little charm so they write, and then seal, themselves in envelopes.

“Yes?” I’m sorting through my gifts, on the floor, and Hetty is doing most of the actual wrapping.

She doesn’t look up as she answers. “Albus, Freddie, Daxtor, Dominique, and… What’s that other girl? Ah, Thea. Yes?”

“Yes…?” I feel I know where this is going.

“Have I missed someone?”

“Um, well – there’s Rose. Rose Weasley.” I mumble.

“Oh yes! But… Forgive me, I thought the two of you hated each other.”

“Well, I mean… it’s complicated.” How would you even explain that to your mother?

“Ah,” she says, and her tone is a little too knowing for my liking. “So am I right in thinking she’s the one that book was for? Or have you taken an interest in Jules’s work since I last saw you?”

“Yes, that was for her.” I admit.

“Good,” she says, and I’m a bit shocked. “It’s never nice to leave people out,” she carries on, and then my pulse goes back to normal. “Think of it like an olive branch.”

“Yeah,” I agree, “Yeah, that’s why I got it.” Probably.

****

That night, I struggle to sleep. It might be because of the huge meal we ate at the Fallen Sphinx, or because it feels weird to be back at home. However, I don’t think it’s either of those. I turn over onto my back, and look over at the window – pitch black sky, no stars out. My room here is so much more spacious than at Hogwarts: double bed, built-in wardrobe, en-suite, desk, little sofa. But I miss the cosiness of the dorm, and going to sleep knowing my best mate’s right next to me. Flint and Crabbe, to be fair, I _don’t_ miss.

What’s keeping me awake, though, isn’t thoughts of the dorm. It’s thoughts of something else, or rather _someone_ else, that I do miss. Insanely enough. Rose Weasley. No-one’s as shocked as I am. It’s hard to say when this came on, exactly. I think it came somewhere between That Night, all those weeks ago, and today, when I bought her gift.

I was sat at the table tonight, tucking into a nice slice of pumpkin pie for dessert, when it hit me.

I want Rose.

I miss seeing her thick red curls in the corridor, or waiting for a snappy witty comment in response to something I’ve said. I miss the electricity I feel when she sits next to me, and most of all I miss the sneaked-in kisses when no one else is around – the moments when I have her all to myself. And Merlin, it’s not even been 24 hours yet.

Of course, this is slightly worrying, I muse, pulling the duvet tighter round me. _I have feelings for Rose,_ I let myself think, for the first time. _I like Rose._ It’s scaring the shit out of me. Not least because we’re about the most incompatible people on the planet. Oh, and she’s practically my best mate’s _sister._ And then there’s all the normal worries you get when you like someone – obviously they won’t feel the same, obviously it’s going to be horribly awkward when you next see them, and obviously it’s written in the stars you’ll never end up together.

What am I _doing?_ I close my eyes and force myself to feel sleepy. Rose Weasley? Really? The girl I’ve hated since we both started school? I hope Merlin is looking down on me right now – because I’ve sure as had it with Cupid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is a short chapter, a sorta filler one? But I thought it’d be fun to introduce the parentals :) stay tuned for more -L


	16. A Stroke of Luck

I guess I must have dropped off in the end, because the next thing I know, Mum’s hauling the curtains open, and the morning light floods my room.

“Morning, sunshine,” she chirps.

“You talking to me or the weather?” I mutter (it’s never too early for sarcasm).

She comes and sits on the end of my bed, and leans over to smooth down my bed hair. I fight the impulse to shrug her off.

“We’re going to do a mini Christmas today, Scorpius! Isn’t that exciting? We can exchange our gifts, and have Christmas lunch, and then your father will drop you back off at school. How does that sound?” She has an excited little smile on her face, and her fingers drum erratically on my knee.

“Great,” I agree. “That way it’ll feel like you’ve not even missed me.”

“Exactly,” she stands up, and offers me her hand. “Come on, get up. We’ve got a busy day ahead.”

I roll my eyes, but do as she says. It’s as I’m dressing, however, that I remember the epiphany from last night.

 _Rose_. And the fact I’d quite like to not let her out of my sight again. Flying Krups with bells on. Why do I get myself into these things? There’s a horrible swooping sensation in my belly, like the bottom half of me has fallen out. I have a sudden dread feeling about going back to school, now, too: I’ll have to _speak_ to her. I mean, that usually gives me dread, but for one, this time, it’s not about the chance of a fight.

****

“Open this, Scorpius,” Dad shifts towards me along the sofa, and pulls out a box from behind his back. I shove some of the wrapping paper rubbish onto the floor, and take it off him.

“Oh, is this the big one?” We hear Mum’s voice before she comes back into the lounge. I don’t know why she bothers fussing in the kitchen – she can’t cook, Hetty does everything. I think she maybe just wants to be the motherly figure, or something?

She sits down and looks at me eagerly. Dad arches an eyebrow, and crosses one leg over the other. Ah, the pressure. I give the box a tentative shake.

“Don’t do that!” Dad cries, and snatches it right back. “This is fragile, you know.”

“Sorry?” I hold out my hand for it, but he pulls the lid off and gently tips the contents into my hand. I mean, he calls me controlling.

It’s a key. A door key. Wow.

“Guys, this is cute, but I already have a set of keys, remember? You gave them me in second year?”

Dad rolls his eyes, irritated. Mum laughs. I feel a bit guilty for ruining their top gift, but I am awful at lying.

“It’s not for here, Scorpius,” Mum says, watching my face carefully.

“You… No." It takes me a minute to comprehend. "You got me a _house?”_

“A flat.” Dad corrects.

“What?” … the fuck? Dear Merlin. It’s official: I’m the epitome of every spoilt only-child rich kid _ever._

“We thought you might take it like this…” Mum says.

“Ungrateful, I call it.” Dad folds his arms. “Don’t you even want to see it?”

“Guys – _guys_. Look. I’m sixteen, not _forty_ and still living at home. Don’t you want to see me get things for myself, and give me a proper chance to do that? Giving me everything now isn’t gonna teach me to work hard.” I pull my best pleading face to make them understand. “All you’re gonna do is make me depend on you for everything. And I’ll never be able to be proud of what I’ve done, because I’ll feel I never really earned it, you know?”

I look between the both of them, and hold my breath. Way to tense the Christmas atmosphere, Scorp.

“When I was your age,” Dad starts, already furious, “I would have been ecstatic to get even half of the chances your mother and I have given you. But you! Oh, _no._ Not only have you got sky-high morals, but you’d rather your do-gooder friends than your own parents.” He gives Mum a fierce look at this point, as if to say ‘you best back me up’.

“When you were _my_ age,” I argue, (he opened himself up for this one) “You were a Death Eater! And that I’d rather my friends is a fat _lie_ too – I’ve already explained why I’m staying at school.”

“Don’t take that tone with me,” (the standard parent line) “Who do you think you are?” he sneers.

“Draco.” Mum says softly. “In fact, both of you. Scorpius, if you don’t want the flat, there’s nicer ways to say it. You’ve hurt both mine and your father’s feelings. But we’ll respect your decision, at the end of the day – _won’t we?”_ She says the last two words through gritted teeth.

“Suit yourself.” Dad snaps, and stands up. “But you can Floo back on your own. I’ve got other things to be doing.” And he stands up, and leaves.

Mum sighs, and gets up to follow him. I can hear her trying to placate him as they both head upstairs.

“But I’ve not given you my gifts, yet!” I call, in a last-ditch attempt.

“It’s okay, Master Malfoy,” Hetty pipes up, coming in with three mugs of hot chocolate and some mince pies. “I’ll make sure they open them on Christmas day.”

“Thank you, Hetty.”

She bobs a little bow, and leaves again. I take a hot chocolate mug, hoping for some sugar therapy. I won’t apologise. I meant what I said. I just wish Dad would take things better.

Once I’ve packed up my overnight bag, I go to find my parents. They’re sat in the upstairs lounge, Dad scribbling a letter, and Mum doing more card-enveloping.

“I’m gonna head back.” I say quietly, stood in the doorway, holding my duffel.

“Oh, Scorpius,” Mum bounces up and hugs me tightly. Her dark eyes look sad, and she leans her cheek against mine for longer than usual. “It’s not going to be the same without you, next week. I hope you sort things out for your friend.”

I nod, and half-turn to go, but she says “Go hug your dad goodbye.” And then there’s no avoiding it. So I plonk down my bag, and walk over to him – he waits until the last second to put his quill down, and look up at me.

“C’mere then,” he mutters gruffly, standing up to give me a brief hug and slap on the back. “Maybe we should’ve let you choose your own flat.” He doesn’t meet my eyes.

And I guess that that’s the closest we’ll get to an apology from Draco Malfoy. I can see Mum welling up from the corner of my eye, and I take that as my cue to go.

“We’ll not sell the flat,” she says. “But you don’t have to live there when you graduate, if you choose not to.” She says it like she’s at a loss to why on Earth anyone wouldn’t want an all-expenses paid (probably) top-of-the-range apartment to move straight into, and I guess I’ll just have to accept they might never fully understand my reasoning.

But at least I’m leaving with us on speaking terms.

****

“Hey,” I say, as I take a seat next to Al on the Slytherin table. The whole of the Great Hall’s decked out in Christmas attire, and there’s four giant trees, each with decorations of their House’s colour. “What’s on the menu today?” I sling my legs through and pull a plate towards me.

“Well, well, well,” his face breaks out into a slow grin as he turns to face me, “Wasn’t expecting you back so early!” He gives me a good-natured punch on the arm. “So, how’re the ‘rents?”

“Oh, yeah, they’re good. We had a bit of a fight though, to be honest,” I say, piling my plate with meatballs.

“Hm? What about? That the reason you’re back early?”

“Yeah, you could say that,” I say slowly. I hadn’t wanted to explain straight away, but there seems to be no way round it now. I take a deep breath in. “They bought me a flat.”

“What?!” Al almost spits out his pasta, as he turns, eyes bulging, to stare at me.

“Yep,” I carry on. “As a Christmas present. So I could move into it after we finish here. As you can probably guess, I wasn’t best pleased, and we had a row because I wanted to stand on my own two feet and not have them doing everything for me.”

Al whistles through his teeth and shakes his head at me. “Nah, you’re right there, mate. I would’ve done the exact same, honest. If my parents were rich enough to do that for me!”

“Your parents _are_ rich!” I exclaim. “Your. Dad. Is. Harry. Potter.” I laugh.

“Oh yeah… Well, still! You’re totally right, you wanna feel like you’ve earned whatever you get,” he nods.

“Yeah, exactly. So we left being civil, but Dad’s not too happy with me.”

“He might get over it though, before you next see him? Absence makes the heart grow fonder, and all that jazz.”

“Mm,” I agree, and pick up my fork again. “I hope so.”

“It’s everyone’s last day, today,” Al informs me. “Then we’ll have the place to ourselves. I’m actually kinda excited, you know? To finally find out what all this is about.”

“And to solve it, with James,” I finish. “Me too, actually, thinking about it.”

I’m excited for something else, too. And so nervous I feel like there’s a Basilisk in my stomach. I’m going to see Rose. Sometime in the next 24 hours, at least. I haven’t worked out how I’m going to play it yet – Merlin, I only realised I had feelings for the girl last night. It still seems absolutely insane! And I bet she’ll laugh in my face before never wanting to speak to me again: aside from the snogging, you can’t deny we’ve got a pretty good nemesis thing going on.

The next morning, I spend a ridiculous amount of time getting ready. I have a shower before breakfast, which I hardly ever do – I even blowdry my hair. The whole lot of us will meet in their common room, and decide how we want to play it after that – meaning Rose will be there, and a good impression is needed. Which my head is telling me is stupid – I’ve known the girl almost six years! But I spritz on a healthy amount of cologne anyway.

And Al notices. As we leave the dorm, he gives me a sideways look. “Someone’s made an effort,” he grins.

“Oh, shut up,” I roll my eyes. “It’s Christmas in three days, I’m allowed to look nice!”

“If you like someone again, no-one’s gonna judge you,” he carries on, as we head up the stairs to the Gryffindor tower. I stay quiet. Bloody Potter perceptiveness.

“Is it Dom?” He won’t give up. “She is fairly pretty.”

“No!” At least I can laugh that one off. “What is it with people thinking that? Sure, she’s part-Veela, but she’s almost as scary as McGonagall when she bust James’ party, that time! We would _not_ be a good match.”

If Al replies to that, I don’t hear it. Because we’ve reached their common room, and right in the middle, writing something, sits Rose. She’s only in a jumper and blue jeans, and her curls are up in a messy bun, but she practically makes my heart stop. The cool entrance I had planned, complete with a laid-back ‘hey’ and an eye-catching laugh at something Al had said – goes out the window. I feel all I’m doing is staring, as we sit down and the others chorus their ‘hi, boys!’ and ‘glad you’re here, Scorp!”

Then she turns and sees me. “Malfoy. Good to see you’re back.” She arches an eyebrow, as if setting a challenge.

“Really? Didn’t think you’d be pleased to see me.” At least I can stay calm here and give my usual cold response.

“Well, it’s someone else to help, isn’t it?” And with that, she looks away and carries on scribbling on her parchment.

I notice Al looking at me, his eyes narrowed. But I ignore it – I’ve not acted unusually at all.

“So,” I address Fred and Dom, who are huddled by the fire, incidentally in matching Weasley Christmas jumpers, whispering away. “How far did you get whilst I was away?”

“Erm…” Fred doesn’t quite meet my eyes.

“Nowhere.” Dom rolls her own. “But it’s all good, because Investigator Rosie has written a rota,” her voice takes on a slightly condescending tone.

I look back at Rose, and try to slow my pulse when she meets my eyes.

“We’re each going to take turns talking to Alec and Victor, and James, and see if we get it out of them. Those of us who are least close with James, will pretend to have fallen out with him, and want to get Alec and Victor to help get revenge. Those of us who believe they can get through to James, will try and wheedle out his secret. And the others will simply try anything to Al and Vi, to try and get them to confess – if the first plans don’t work.”

“Anything?” Dax sounds dubious.

“Bribery, threats, seducing – although we have already tried that… You get the gist, anyway. Be creative.”

“So, who’s doing what?” Thea asks.

“Okay, so – Dax and Malfoy, I’ve put you, no offence, as being least close with James, so you need to convince A and V to help you get revenge, and thus, reveal their secret. Me and Thea, we’re the most sensitive talkers, so we’ll try and get it out of James. Dom and Fred, you’re the scariest, you’re on back-up – you’ll step in and try and scare them into telling you if our plans fail. And Al. He’s your brother, so you can choose how you’d like to act.”

“Cool.” Al says, and once again I’m forced to admire Rose’s thoughtfulness. “I think I’ll back you and Tee, but after, and alone, if it doesn’t work with you two.”

“Right. Let’s start then. Stage one – Tee and I, Stage Two – Malfoy and Dax, Stage Three – Al, Stage Four – I mean, I hope we don’t need it – but Dom and Fred.”

Thea downs the last of whatever’s in her mug, and stands up. “Come on then, you. Let’s get this done. Shall we go hunt him down?”

“Yeah, okay. I guess we’ll see you all later,” Rose lays down her parchment and stretches. I try not to look at her too hard, but I do feel a little pang as she leaves the room – I’d wanted more chances for us to have a good conversation.

****

As days go, it’s pretty uneventful. We’re all on pins waiting to hear if Stage Two needs to go into operation, but there’s nothing from the girls all day. We’re all slightly bored as well – it’s too cold to do anything outside, of course, and we all feel like we’ve been waiting for Christmas to come for too long. Plus, there’s only so many games of Exploding Snap and Wizarding Chess you can play without wanting to hit someone.

So we end up going to bed agitated and slightly fed up, I have to use all my willpower not to shout at Al when he takes forever in the bathroom and I can’t brush my teeth. He gets grouchy with me, too, because I don’t want to dissect mine and Dax’s plan for tomorrow. Needless to say, we turn the lights out early, and both lie awake for a little while, in the dark.

That’s why, I’m sure I’ve dropped off, and am dreaming, when I feel a weight on my legs in the night. Either that, or it’s James again, coming to rope me in for more help. Dear Merlin. I open one eye gingerly.

“ _Rose_?!”

“Shh!”

“What are you doing? It’s the middle of the night! Why are you on my bed?!”

“Be quiet! You’re going to wake Al up!” she hisses.

“You can talk,” I whisper back, “You’ve come in here and caused this!” I struggle to sit up in the bed, and squint at Rose’s face in the dark. This is really not how I’d imagined our first proper conversation going.

“You used my name.” Her tone is different, somehow.

“Well… You gave me a shock, that’s why.” I can’t very well say that it’s because I’m used to calling her that in my head, now.

“Oh. I thought… Nevermind.”

“Right. Care to explain what exactly is going on, here?”

She’s still sat on my legs, and from what I can see, is in her pyjamas, and fluffy slippers. My head is propped up on the pillow, but aside from that, I’m pretty much horizontal and it’s making me nervous.

“I, erm, wanted to speak to you.”

“What,” I twist to see my watch, “At 4.38?”

“Yeah,” she looks lost, and it reminds me of That Night, all those months ago.

“Hey,” I say quietly. “I thought we agreed to stop our little meet-ups? You were just a filler, for Aria, remember?” It hurts me to say it, especially as I’ve just realised I like the girl, but it’s what she wants to hear – right? She’d never have liked me anyway. It’s better she thinks it meant nothing to me, at least she’ll know I don’t expect anything more.

“I was? Yeah, I was.” She won’t meet my eyes.

“Is something up? Did it go badly with James?”

“No. I mean, yes, I guess. We didn’t get our answers, if that’s what you mean. Brushed off, as usual.”

“Oh. That sucks. If you’re upset, why don’t you wait till the morning, and talk to Al? He was the back-up, wasn’t he?” I can’t bear for another make-out sesh that won’t mean anything to her.

“Yeah. I will.” She doesn’t move, though.

“Alright.” I say, and then I think, _Screw this_. I’m hopelessly crushing on her. I don’t want her to leave. So I hook an arm round her waist, and in one move pull her onto the bed, so we’re both sat up – our legs outstretched, heads resting against the wall. Rose looks at me in surprise.

“What was that for?”

“You looked uncomfortable there, that’s all.” It’s surely too early to tell her anything, yet.

“I thought you wanted me to leave?” She looks so cute with her little confused expression. If I moved an inch, our arms would touch - and although my legs are under the duvet and hers are on the top, you can’t deny that there’s a spark through that layer of quilt.

“I… Don’t know what I want.” At least that’s the truth.

“Since when do you care about how comfortable I am, too?” She frowns a little, and I have an urge to kiss the little wrinkle in between her eyebrows.

“Things have changed, a lot, don’t you think? Since that night when I found you on the stairs. We’ve been… _different_ … this year. I’m not – not as awful as you think, promise.”

“I know,” she says quietly. “You’ve surprised me. I thought the first thing you’d do would be blab. And gloat.”

“Well…” I trail off. I’m really stuck on how to act. I don’t want to push her away by saying anything, but I like her so much and I want her to fall for me – unrealistic, I know.

Suddenly, Rose lays her head on my shoulder. “I’m cold,” she whispers, and lifts the duvet up to tuck her legs inside. “You don’t mind, do you?”

I’m not used to seeing a vulnerable, girly side to her – the sort that wears a guy’s jacket to keep warm. Despite it being surprising, it’s sorta cute.

“No,” I murmur, trying not to think about the fact our skin is touching underneath the covers. “Let’s just not wake up Al. Merlin help us if he found you here.”

“Good thing he’s a deep sleeper, then.” Rose closes her eyes and lays her head on my chest. I tuck an arm round her, and pull the quilt up and over us. She edges closer to me, so our bodies are pressed together. I can feel her heart beating against my chest as I lie on my back, and I let my head rest on the top of hers. I could get used to this. Someone up there must be smiling down at me, giving me the girl I like, right here, curled up sleeping in my bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A nice bit of cheese here for ya! I’m super bad at writing cutesy scenes, but I thought this is a nice one to end the chapter on. There'll be more Rose + Scorp cheesiness soon, too :) - L


	17. A Revelation

When I wake up, Rose and I are in the exact same position – legs entwined, her head on my chest as I lie on my back, an arm tucked around her. My first thought is ‘ _Wow, what a sight to wake up to’_ , as it’s common knowledge Rose Weasley is hot stuff, even first thing in the morning, in pyjamas with messy curly braids. Then, comes the realisation we’re as dead as Severus Snape if Al finds us here, so that thought is followed by a very panicky ‘ _Shit._ ’

“Hey,” I give her a little poke. “Hey, Rose. Wake up.”

She stirs a little, eyelids fluttering. “I like you calling me that,” she says sleepily. I’ll count that as early-morning delirium – she obviously doesn’t mean it.

“Come on, we can’t have Al finding you in my bed! Please,” I shake her shoulders gently.

“Okay, okay,” she says, and rubs her eyes. Bloody hell, she really is gorgeous. Sometimes it just hits you – and now is one of those times. She moves away from my chest, extricates her legs from mine, and sits up. I feel suddenly cold, and want to pull her back close to me. No, Scorp. Hold it in. She blatantly doesn’t like you, and you need her to leave before Al wakes up.

She looks me straight in the face. Her stray curls are frizzing out of her plaits, her pyjamas are ruffled, and she has sleep in the corners of her eyes. Hell, probably morning breath, too. Yet I don’t think I’ve ever liked anyone more than I like Rose now, with the morning sunshine creeping in and lighting our faces, and the charged tension of last night filling the room. She opens her mouth to speak, but I get there first.

“It’s okay. You don’t need to explain. I get it – you needed comfort after a hard day yesterday, and we’d already bonded over the James thing. Don’t worry, it’s already forgotten.”

“Right… Yeah,” she says slowly, eyebrows furrowed. “Um, good, then. I guess – I’ll see you later. To talk everything through, you know.”

“Sure.”

Rose gives me the tiniest smile, pushes her hair back, and tiptoes to the door, shooting the sleeping Al a wary glance as she goes. Then she pauses at the door.

“Hey? It… It was really nice, this. I mean, for comfort purposes, obviously.”

“Obviously.” I give her my best smirk. At least that’s a good lasting image of me she can have for the day.

****

Before we know it, mine and Dax’s turn has crept up on us. Apparently talking to James is having no impact whatsoever, aside from making Rose impulsive and Al quiet and antisocial. All of his relatives are waning in this quest to save him from himself. Or maybe from his ‘best friends’. So, that’s how we end up in the corridor outside the Great Hall, waiting to ambush Alec and Victor after dinner.

“It’s Christmas Eve, Scorp. Shouldn’t we be hanging up stockings, or something?” Dax whines, rubbing his hands together for warmth. I don’t know if McGonagall thinks we should save funds seen as there’s basically no one here, or something, but the heating spells seem to be seriously lacking at the moment.

“Well aside from the fact that the House Elves do that, this is a good use of our time! What better moment to solve everything, than on Christmas Eve, and then everyone can have a good day tomorrow?”

“You know who you sound like?” Dax gives me a look. “ _Rose.”_

And to that, I say nothing.

“Hey, look. They’re coming.” Dax says, as there’s footsteps at the door.

Then Alec, James and Victor all appear through it. James already looks annoyed, he’s frowning and walks a couple of paces ahead of them – like he’s a fraction away from storming straight off. This is good. The plan was to get them alone, originally. I look at Dax, raise my eyebrows. He nods.

“James?” Dax asks, stepping forward into their path. I wonder if it’s just me who can hear the nerves in his voice. There’s a lot of pressure on us to get this right.

“I’m a little busy, right now, Dax,” James sounds agitated, and looks over the top of Dax’s head, instead of at him. “Things to do, places to be, you know?”

We hadn’t banked on this – but in a way it’s easier, as he’ll already be out of the way.

“Oh, sure,” Dax says quickly. “No biggie. It wasn’t that important anyway, I...” But James is already walking off. In ordinary circumstances, that’d be rude, but I think we’re all a bit too preoccupied to notice right now.

“While we’re here, then,” I chip in neatly, and come to stand next to Dax. “We could do with a word with you two…”

Alec and Victor exchange looks. Alec scowls, and Victor rubs one hand over his knuckles, like he’s some gangster in a Muggle movie.

“We’ve heard things, lately,” Dax carries on, “About you and James. We know there’s shit going on. Are you gonna tell us what it is?”

Alec laughs. “What makes you think it’s any of _your_ business?”

“Let’s leave business out of it,” I say. “Either you tell us the dirt you have on James, or…” I glance at Dax. We’d pre-arranged this threat, going for what we thought would get at them most. Once we know what they have on James, and ideally what their plan is too, it’ll be so much easier to put an end to all of it.

“…Or _we_ tell _him_ we heard this.” I pull my wand out of my pocket and flick it gently. Instantly, their voices fill the air.

“…Potter’s even more big fucking headed than usual. And it’s bad enough that I don’t even like the guy in the first place, but when he’s acting like a right _prick…_ Well, it’s enough to make anyone sick…” Both their faces turn white, and they grip their wands in tight fists. Aside from that, there’s no other response. I point my wand higher.

“…We overheard a conversation as he was walking back… Some serious _shit,_ it was. Let’s just say we didn’t need to have our intervention no more. So, we’re gonna drop a few hints, make him squirm for a while, and then tell him we know his little secret. And after that, he won’t need no reminding of who’s boss…”

Dax smirks, and I pocket my wand. “So. Would we want Potter hearing that?” Dax asks, in a faux-musing voice.

“Why don’t you just tell him that yourself?” Victor snarls. “If you’re so worried about him trusting us?”

“Think he’d believe us?” Dax retorts. “In the mood he’s in at the moment? No. He’d just brush us off, as-“ He breaks off, because I give him a sharp jab in the ribs. We can’t give too much away.

Alec and Victor exchange looks. If this gets back to James, then they’re done for. He’s pretty smart, and there’d be no way their plan could work if he knew about it.

“It’s simple.” I say. “Tell us what you know about James, or we’ll send him this - anonymously, of course.”

“You’re a fucking joke,” Alec spits. “And this isn’t going to work in your favour. So what if we tell you what we know? It’s not going to stop us using it on James. And you sure as hell won’t be able to fix it for him.” I raise my eyebrows at his blatant way of stating it.

“You know what?” Victor bursts out, “I don’t even care! Tell them – at least we’ll get a fucking break.”

Then, with the same manic look, he swiftly pulls out his own wand from his pocket.

The first voice that sounds through the air is familiar at once – James. The second, I don’t think I’ve heard before.

“ _How do I know this isn’t… fake, or a hoax, or something?”_

 _“You want proof? I see. Well, should be expected, a smart boy like you. Here.”_ There’s a rustling of papers.

“ _Okay. Yeah. And… You’re sure I won’t get caught? Will you back me up, if anyone finds out?”_

The second speaker sighs, and there’s a little pause before he speaks. _“Look, there’s other people we could go to. We know you’re the best, but that doesn’t mean some other young Seeker couldn’t catch you up with a bit of hard work. How much do you want this? If it isn’t enough to take a risk, then you obviously don’t have the drive we’re looking for.”_

_“No, sir – this is everything I’ve wanted. Quidditch is what I live for. I’ll make it worth your while, I promise.”_

_“Good. A year – that’s all you’ll have to do this for. Then you’ll have left school, and we’ll be able to approach you in the normal way.”_

_“And this’ll guarantee my spot?”_

_“Of course. That’s if you play well up to then.”_

Victor takes a step forward as the conversation draws to a close. He presses the tip of his wand to my jugular, tilting up my head. I daren’t move, but I meet his glare with a fierce stare of my own.

“Now,” he says with malice, “ _Piss off.”_

“Don’t ever come near us again, is that clear?” Alec adds. “We won’t be this lenient a second time.” I can see Dax hates the way they speak to us, like children, but I pray he won’t pipe up.

“It’s not like this set you back, anyway, _is it?”_ Dax snaps. “Like you said, us knowing this won’t stop you from threatening James with it.”

“Exactly.” Alec snarls, and shoves me away from Victor’s wand with a sharp push. The two of them turn on their heels and leave, without a backwards glance, whipping around the corner.

Dax and I exchange looks – he looks as shaken as I feel. “Come on,” I mutter. “Let’s find the others.”

“Oh, yeah,” his tone is sarcastic. “I’m sure they’ll take it _super_ well that James is an illegal underage Quidditch player, bargaining solo with Hogsmeade crooks.”

“Nice summary.” _My_ tone is acidic, and it feels like there’s lead in my stomach because he’s exactly right. This is the epitome of bad news.

****

“WHAT?” Rose looks how I’d imagine Mrs Weasley looked when she found out Rose’s Dad and Uncles had brought Harry Potter in a flying car. Her red curls, usually in glossy ringlets, seem to stand out vertically from her head, and her eyes are bugged out so wide you’d think someone had jinxed them. She jumps up from the sofa her and Dom were curled up on, and stands, facing me, waiting for an explanation.

Dom and Al have similar reactions – he lurches forward from his neat sitting position, his mouth dropping wide, and she claps her hand to her face, her eyebrows almost disappearing into her blonde hair.

“He’s an _illegal underage Quidditch player?”_ Al’s words ring with shock and disbelief.

Dax nods. We’ve just come into the Gryffindor common room, and the others were waiting up for our news, about to go to bed – after all, it is Christmas Eve. “Where’s Fred and Thea?”

“I’m here,” Fred’s voice comes from behind us as he enters the common room, holding a mug. “What’d I miss?”

“Thea fell asleep, we put her to bed,” Dom snaps in my general direction, “Now can we backtrack to where you were explaining this?”

I sigh. “Explain – I mean, I don’t know what you want us to say. That’s his secret. That’s what they’re threatening to spill, because obviously, the consequences will be pretty shit.” I’m sorta lost for words. I look at Dax for help.

“Oh – Fred. They told us, if you hadn’t guessed,” Dax turns to look at Fred, who’s frowning, evidently trying to piece this mess together. “And it turns out James has been moonlighting as a professional Quidditch player – or at least there’s a conversation of him agreeing to. Illegally, because obviously he’s still in school.”

“Is he _insane?”_ Rose cries, and actually pulls at her hair. “Has he gone mad?! Doesn’t he realise the trouble this could get him into?”

“Hey,” Al puts his hand on her arm, pulls her back down to the sofa. “We’ll sort this.”

“I don’t even – this should be the other way round! I should be… he’s your brother! I’m just- I mean, I’m… sorry, Al.”

“No, it’s not your fault. You’re entitled to feel however you do – he just… He never bloody _thinks!”_

“This is actually mad,” Fred says quietly, sinking to the floor, the mug of cocoa forgotten. “If he’d just waited, say a few months or so, then any club would’ve been itching to sign him after graduation! There was no need to do this and risk his whole career before it’s even started.”

“Exactly.” Dom’s tone is icy. “That’s what he’s done – he thinks it’s a bold career move, that he’s risking his life for his sport, but he doesn’t realise how thin the ice is! If anyone found out, _ever,_ that’d be it! Done for. And he’s Harry Potter’s son, too! Imagine how bad it would look…”

Al puts his head in his hands. “Mum and Dad would freaking skin him _alive,”_ he mutters through his palms.

“They know all this, too. Alec and Victor,” I say angrily. “They know exactly what James is bargaining – it’s no wonder he’s eating out of the palm of their hands. And they were right about us. The fact that we know the secret doesn’t even get us any closer to helping him.”

“Yeah, if he hasn’t given it up already with them threatening him, there’s no way he’d give it up just because we asked him to.” Al adds.

“This is shit. Utter, utter shit.” Dom shakes her head.

“Oh James, what have you done?” Rose murmurs, looking at the ceiling. There’s a beat of silence whilst everyone contemplates the mess that we’ve just uncovered.

“Hey,” I say gently, addressing the group. I stifle a yawn, and stretch, unintentionally emphasizing my point. “We all need to get some rest. It _is_ Christmas Eve after all. I vote we all just sleep on this and try not to let it ruin tomorrow. Plans start Boxing Day?”

“Yeah, mate.” Al says, distractedly. “Night everyone.” He’s the first to leave, I guess maybe he needs a minute alone. Fred and Dax go next, nodding and chorusing goodnights, deep in conversation as they head up the boys staircase. Dom leans over and hugs her cousin, smoothing Rose’s curls. Then she gives me a strained smile and goes up to the girls’ dorm.

I walk and sit down next to Rose. It’ll only be for a minute, I think. I really do believe what I said – sleep’ll be the best thing for us right now. I don’t say anything, but she slips her small, cool hand into my own. I’m a bit surprised, but I’ve learned not to overanalyse stuff with us, so l rub a little circle with my thumb, aiming to be a calming influence.

“It’ll be okay.” I say – probably the worst words of comfort ever to be uttered, but there you go – told ya I was bad at them.

“Will it?” She looks at me, her brown eyes wide. “Because I’m not so sure.”

I say nothing, but pull our hands onto my lap, and hold hers with both of mine.

“Goodnight, Malfoy.” Rose says after a minute, pulling her hand away and standing up. “Merry Christmas.” She doesn’t look back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a shorter chapter, because Christmas ended up being super long and I had to halve it! Good things come in short packages though, right? -L


	18. A Christmas to Remember

“Merry Christmas, Scorp.” Al’s tone is still bitter. I sit up slowly in bed, stretch, and it occurs to me that my day started and begun with the same phrase.

“Happy Christmas,” I reply, quietly. We all know it’s unlikely to be.

“Look,” Al says, leaning over the end of the bed. “The House Elves have brought all our gifts up.”

And sure enough, as I peer over the end of mine, there’s a pile of presents at the foot of the bunk. I spot a ’ _Love, Dom’_ on a label, and there’s some I recognise from my grandparents, too. “We’d better not open any,” I say to Al. “We told the others we’d do it together, remember?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Al says, and starts to get up.

“Hey,” I try, “Bet you’re gonna _love_ my gift.”

Al rolls his eyes, scoops up his pile of presents, and the two of us head downstairs, still clad in Christmas themed pyjamas.

“Surprise!” We hear the shout before we actually see them, the lot of them, waiting for us in our common room. You can tell that things aren’t exactly normal, because it’s always Al and I going to them, not the other way around.

“Looks like we all had the same idea,” I grin, seeing five sets of pyjamas and five piles of gifts. I dump mine on the floor too, and sit down. The others have made a sort of circle, on the floor near the fireplace, and coincidentally (well, sort of) I flop down cross-legged, next to Rose. Al joins us a beat later, and the whole thing’s cosy and cheesy and seems like it’s straight out of a children’s storybook.

“Aren’t we all _adorable_?” Dom laughs with her usual hint of sarcasm, pulling her crimson dressing gown tighter. “Like, is this Christmas goals, or what?”

Thea flicks Dom’s foot. “Dom, don’t be mean! This is cute! And we might never get to have a Christmas together again.”

She’s right, actually. I look round our makeshift circle, at this group Al brought me into, six years ago, and at the people who’ve become my surrogate family. I reckon it’s the holiday spirit making me all sentimental, and shit, but I’m really gonna miss these when we’re not Hogwarts-ing anymore.

“Yeah, _Dominique_ , that’s you told,” I think I surprise her by backchatting. “And I’m actually pretty fond of you losers, you know? I’m glad you adopted me into your group. Don’t ruin this nice moment.”

The others laugh, and agree, and say that I’m the best adopted child they could have asked for (Fred), but my eyes linger on Rose, next to me. She rewards me with that usual hint of a smile I’ve gotten used to, the glint in her eyes making me want to demand an answer, know what she’s thinking. I don’t, though, of course. I just hold her gaze, till Fred starts off the present chain by ripping into his first.

“Aw, wow!” He holds up the box, grinning. “Look what my parents got me – new dressrobes!”

“You’re such a girl, mate,” Dax rolls his eyes, opening a jumbo-sized box of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans. “Give me anything _but_ clothes for Christmas.”

It just descends into further chaos from there. So much for civilised turn-taking – I blame Fred, Dax, and Dom, who seem to be competing as to who can open gifts the quickest. When there’s a final lull in the festivities, I give the boys their tickets.

Al opens the envelope first. “Merlin, Scorp! This is too much!” But he’s laughing, showing absolutely no inkling of giving it back.

“Bloody hell!” (this is Dax, accompanied by a low wolf whistle.) Fred, however, bounds up, and stretches his out underneath the lightshade, tipping it this way and that.

“Okay, they’re real.” He announces finally. “Malfoy, boy done _good!”_ He grabs me in a headlock, and ruffles my already messy hair. This is high praise, and I take it on the chin.

Dom and Thea suitably ooh and ahh over the self-refilling perfume, too. Although it earns me a dark glare from Rose when she thinks I’m not looking – she’s obviously presumed I don’t have anything for her. The others look away from me too, after Dom and Thea have put their gifts down.

“Oh, I have something for you, too, Weasley,” I decide is the best thing to say. And I wink in her direction, too, putting on a good show. “But it’s not wrapped yet,” I lie. “So I’ll have to give it you later today.”

Al grins, evidently pleased we’re on good terms, and the others look appeased too. Rose nods, and under her curls I think there might even be a little smirk there.

“We’ve got one for you too, Scorp,” Thea giggles. “Whilst we’re on the subject of the two of you…”

“Rose, you’re gonna _love_ it.” Fred wiggles his eyebrows at her.

“What do you mean?” Her tone is suspicious, and I completely agree.

“Well,” Dom smirks, “We knew you two had been at each other’s throats less than usual recently, and we wanted to keep it that way...”

“Just open it!” Dax exclaims, and chucks us a slim package. Rose seizes it and pulls off the wrapping - it, too, looks coincidentally like a ticket. I frown, and lean closer to her to read it.

“You’re sending us on a _date?!”_ I splutter. Has Al found out about my secret feelings for Rose? Surely _Rose_ doesn’t know?

“To a _restaurant?”_ Rose echoes in disbelief. Good, she obviously is as clueless as I am. The others exchange looks and chuckle. “A _dinner date?”_

“Absolutely not.” I say, before Rose can say it herself and break my heart more. “We’re barely on speaking terms.” In front of you guys, at least.

“Yeah.” Rose agrees, but her tone is a little more subdued.

“Well, you’re going,” Fred interjects, stretching his legs out and leaning back on his hands. “No arguments. And don’t be ungrateful, two three course meals isn’t cheap.”

“Yeah,” Dax adds, “And the place we’ve booked is proper nice, guess what it’s called!”

“We can read the voucher, Dax.” Rose says, exasperated. “Rosebud’s. How coincidental.”

“You’re all so chuffed with yourselves, aren’t you?” I laugh, I can’t help it, and roll my eyes.

“Don’t act like you’re not a bit happy – a meal is a meal.” Dom challenges, and at this point Al steps in.

“Come on,” He says at once, standing up and ruffling his bedhead hair. “We should all shower and get dressed, it’s almost Christmas dinner time.”

“What, before we get into a family row?” Dom teases, but she stands up, and pulls a sleepy Thea up too.

“Last one back to the tower has to share Grandma’s fudge!” Fred yells, and bolts out of the door. There are many outcries at this, but the rest of our mates are still competitive, and sprint after him.

Al begins to scrunch up our rubbish, and flicks his wand so it all flies into the bin. We start for the stairs. “You’re not mad, are you?” He asks.

“No,” I say – if only he knew how much of a blessing in disguise this really was. “No, I can promise I’m not mad.” And I leave it at that.

****

I catch Rose before we go for dinner – I made sure to take extra long and let Al head off without me. All at once, I feel nervous, as I see her coming down the corridor. I hope she likes it. I hope this is the start of a good road between us, one where maybe there’s good things in the future. I hope I haven’t misread the signs, and not least because it was expensive!

“Hey, Ginger!” (I do that to annoy her; you know what they say.)

I can almost hear her rolling her eyes before she turns round. _“What?”_ She snaps - like I said, it would be stupid to hope she’d ever fall for me.

I fall into step beside her, and hold out the present. “Don’t you _what_ me,” I murmur, smirking, “You were in my bed only 48 hours ago.”

“Oh, shut up.” She elbows me. “It wasn’t like _that.”_

“Open it, then.”

“Is it something to annoy me?” She begins to pull off the paper.

“No! You’ll like it.” I hope.

I watch her face as she realises what it is. “Oh Merlin! No way! Really?” She turns it over in her hands, flicking through the pages hungrily, as if waiting for the book itself to confirm.

“Yep.” I say, despite there being no real question there. “Do you like it?”

“I _love_ it.” She says firmly, her eyes still on the book. “It’s just what I wanted! Jules is my _favourite_ author, he’s got so many relevant and fresh things to say, and this! A first edition?! And it’s _signed?!”_

“Well, you know,” I feel my ears turning a bit pink. “I just saw it, and – “

“- Thought of me?” She looks up at me, finally. It feels like there’s a charged beat between us. “If we weren’t, you know,” she murmurs, half to herself, “I’d…”

“You’d?”

“Doesn’t matter.” She tucks the book back in the paper, and then under her arm. Then she stands on tiptoe, and softly pecks my cheek - surprising us both, I think. “Thank you. I really do love it.”

And we turn into the Hall for Christmas dinner. Well, didn’t that go nicely?

The Hall looks amazing, (I think it’s extra noticeable today, of course) but really, Hogwarts does do Christmas well. The four Christmas trees that span floor to ceiling give the room a pine-y scent, and the banquet of meat and vegetables almost glows on the one long table. We’re late, Rose and I, and we quickly take seats next to the others. Victor and Alec are as far away from us as possible, thank goodness, and the teachers that have stayed – McGonagall, Chang, Slughorn, Longbottom, Abbott, and Madam Pomfrey, sit dotted around us and the handful of other students that have stayed.

Al, who I’ve sat next to, turns and offers me his cracker. Or rather, the end of mine, as he’s already wearing a maroon beret which I’m presuming came from his own one. Across the table, Thea has silver tinsel in her hair, and is laughing as though at their own private joke. I shrug, and pull the end regardless. It explodes with an almighty ‘bang’, and Al ricochets back in his seat. A green lizard slithers out of the end, accompanied by a couple of chocolate frogs, and a tiara. I take it, and place it neatly on my head. I mean, it is Christmas, after all.

“A toast.” McGonagall stands up, a glass of sherry in her hand, a few stray hairs poking out of her bun. “Of course, a very merry Christmas to you _all_ ,” she nods at the table, “And… to absent friends, may you all be at peace, wherever you may be.” She raises her glass in the air, and it might just be me, but her eyes seem a little wet. Al catches my eye, and frowns a little – I raise my eyebrows, both acknowledging her unusual toast. I wonder who good old Minerva’s missing this Christmas?

However, there’s no time to dwell on that, as everyone else holds their drinks in the air, and echoes her toast. Then the desserts appear, and my mind is filled with thoughts of Christmas pudding, instead.

We all sit in the Gryffindor common room, the following evening. It seems only fair, given that they came to us this morning. Al seems subdued, whilst the others joke and fiddle around with their gifts. I catch his eye, the way we’re used to, and cock an eyebrow, like I’ve done so many times through the years.

“Alright?” I mutter. I look down at the cards I’m holding, so as to not draw attention to the conversation we’re having.

“Not really.” That surprises me – he’s usually always the one to put on a brave face.

“James?”

“Yeah. And you know what they say, this is the perfect time for love – I haven’t got anyone to share it with. Oh! Not to rub salt in the wound, or anything.”

I shrug it off. “Mate, honestly, I’m well over her. But I get it. It would be nice to have a girl. I guess I’d forgotten…”

“About everything with Lyla? Yeah. It seems unimportant, in the bigger scale of things… But, you know.” He shrugs. “It’ll be fine. We’ll sort this, with James. I know we will. Hell, Hogwarts doesn’t have a better group of detectives. And then I’m sure everything will fall into place.”

“Including you?” I ask quietly. “Will you feel better?”

“Yeah. I know I will. It’ll be like a weight is lifted off my shoulders.”

“Well then!” Fred, who has evidently been listening into the conversation - as, I look up, and see the rest of them have. “We’d better work on solving our case!” He grins.

“Hogwarts doesn’t have a better group of detectives – well, I’m honoured, Mr Potter.” Dom leans back onto her hands.

Thea laughs. “And… Al?” Her tone is softer than the others’. “You can tell us these things, you know. We may not _all_ be your family, but we’re your friends, and we’ll listen.”

And at that even _Dax_ nods in agreement. But then he ruins it by adding, “Unless it’s about _boys_ , Dom and Thea and Rose.”

“Or _girls,_ Dax, Fred, Al and Scorp!” Dom counters.

Someone _please_ explain why Rose’s eyes happen to find mine, just at this particular moment. We’re not a couple…

****

Three days later, the rest of the school descends back on us. Sorry, that sounds awfully self-absorbed – I’ll rephrase. Three days later, term restarts. Even if I didn’t already know from the date, a big clue arrives early Monday morning, as Al and I are enjoying a quiet free period.

“Scorpeeeus! You know, I ‘ave actually meesed dis school! Can you believe eet?” Claudette leans down and plants a big kiss on the side of my cheek. I feel as though I am suffocating in auburn hair.

“Claudette. You’re back. It just hasn’t been the same without you!” Al’s tone is sarcastic – for some reason he hasn’t warmed to our French friend just yet.

“No?” She asks, completely missing the English humour, and sits down at our library table. “What ‘ave I meesed?”

“A _lot.”_ I say, over Al’s frown, and begin to fill her in. “And I am actually quite glad to see you – we need your help.”

Claudette doesn’t say much while I explain we found out James is a secret illegal Quidditch player. Al, however, grits his teeth and looks as if someone hit him with a Disillusionment charm – the way you shiver and put up with the uncomfortable feeling – because you know it’s for your own good.

“ _Merde._ ” Claudette breathes out when I’ve finished. “Zat boy really does know how to get ‘imself into trouble. I ‘ave a solution, though" Surprise surprise, the second after I've finished speaking, "– why does ‘e not just bribe them off? I could do eet for 'im, my family has enough money to pay off ‘alf of zis country,” (There’s a way to say you’re well off, Claudie, and that is not it.) “And zat would ‘ave them off his back like _zat.”_ She snaps her long manicured fingers.

“If I know my brother,” Al chips in, “That’d be the last thing he’d want to do – he hates rubbing our wealth in people’s faces, we all do. And not just that, but it’ll be his pride. He won’t want to acknowledge that they could ever hurt him.”

“Soo. What do we do?” Claudette asks, puzzled. “We cannot just _Avada Kedavra_ zem?”

“I mean sure, that may be what my family did in _their_ day, but we don’t particularly need the Wizengamot to imprison at the moment.”

“We might get away with it, you know,” I muse, “I mean, we’re all underage as of yet…”

“Ha ha.” Al says dryly. “No, what we need to do is get something on them. Something we can bargain with. Some _dirt._ So Claudette, how’d you feel about digging?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's weird writing about Christmas in August! I'm also sorry this has stretched over like 3 chapters :// I needed a lot to happen in the hols, so they had to be long, oops. -L


	19. New Information

I’m sat in Muggle Studies when I have a revelation. It occurs when I’m looking at the back of Aria’s head – unintentionally, of course, as her desk is directly in front of my own. And it’s sudden, but it’s not exactly surprising, like when you realise you’ve been dreaming and everything you saw was actually fake – you knew it was coming. I look at Aria’s blonde hair, and think, I wish I was looking at Rose’s. Which leads onto the epiphany: I’m going to ask Rose out. There. In those neat little six words, it doesn’t sound as crazy as it really feels, which is somewhere between ‘momentous’ and ‘earth-shattering’. This could end _everything_. Or you know, be the start of something pretty freaking great. And yes, I’m very aware she is very likely to laugh in my face and give a definite no. But I’m also sure that I can’t keep going on like this, pining over someone I really should hate. And that kiss on Christmas Day, after I gave her the gift, just settled it. You surely don’t do that to someone you don’t like.

“So, in summary, can anyone explain what happened during the witch trials of 1690? Malfoy, perhaps?” Professor Abbott looks over her glasses at me.

I jerk out of my Weasley-filled reverie. “Um, no… er, I’m not too sure about that,” I manage. “Sorry, Professor.”

“Well then, Keat, how about you? Been paying attention?”

As Damaris launches into a summary of the Salem witch trials, I pull out a quill and hastily scribble down some notes. I knew I should have saved this daydreaming for History of Magic – much less likely to be interrupted. I guess it’s settled now, at least. I daren’t look at Al.

When we get out of class, there’s a commotion on the third floor corridor. Al and I have just come down from the moving staircase (accompanied by a healthy amount of rambling from me, as a sort of distraction from my _real_ thoughts), when there’s the sound of raised voices. At first I think someone’s set off Dungbombs, or something – but it turns out to be slightly more complicated than that.

“You know what, fine! Why don’t you just piss off back to bloody France, then?!” (Yep, that’s James, addressing our favourite Frenchie.)

“Eef I could, I would! I’d take anytheeng over zis _disaster_ of a school!” Claudette yells back furiously, “Full of idiotic little pricks!”

“The only reason you don’t like this school is because you’re so stuck-up you haven’t made any friends!” James folds his arms. Ooh, that was a low blow.

You can sort of see Claudette ballooning with rage, and her face contorts as she gets ready to reply. They’re both stood at the foot of the stairs, bags in hands, holding up traffic behind them. Al steps down the last couple of steps and stands in between them. Bold move, I think.

“Hey, guys. Guys!” Al spreads his hands wide and looks from one to the other. “Let’s calm it down a bit, yeah? You don’t need to do this now.”

“Or ever, really,” I add. If only James knew how much Claudette is actually helping him out. Al seems to read my mind at that moment, though, because he turns to look at me and gives the tiniest shake of his head, as if to say, _that’s only because she likes_ you _._ And I frown, as if to say, _it’s not like_ that. Which it isn’t.

“Stay out of this, little brother,” James doesn’t take his eyes off Claudette.

“Don’t speak to me like that,” Al snaps, and I’m surprised, because it’s so out of character for him. “You know you haven’t even spoken to me since you left for Christmas? And don’t act like it’s because you’ve not had chance – _Lily_ came and found me at nine am on the first day back!”

“Excusez-moi,” Claudette interrupts, and actually stretches out her arm to push Al back from the gap he’s stood in, to where I am at the foot of the stairs. “But we ‘ave a disagreement to settle.”

Al just stands where he’s been pushed to in utter disbelief. The students gathered up behind James and Claudette seem to be in similar states of confusion to him. I have to fight the urge to burst out laughing.

“And… where were we? Oh, _oui._ You think zat I am stuck up, no? I’m no more stuck up than ze pig who thought ‘e could ask me out only _six_ times, and who deed not grasp the fact I could never fall for an idiot like ‘im!”

“Yeah, I was an idiot! For ever liking _you_!” James retorts.

Claudette is evidently not finished. “And you call me stuck up – I would never _never_ neglect my familee because I thought I ‘ad better theengs to do! Eet is just – “

But we never hear what eet is, because at that moment James steps forward and kisses Claudette, passionately, full on the mouth. His arms are round her waist, and he dips her, so her auburn hair almost touches the floor. I expect her to yelp, or shove him off, but she just kisses him back.

What? Is it only me who just heard them tearing chunks out of each other a second ago? James just called himself an idiot for liking her! And she called him an idiotic little prick! What the actual _hell_ is going on here? Next to me, Al puts his head in his hands.

There’s a few whoops and wolf-whistles from the surrounding crowd, and it occurs to me it’s unusual a teacher hasn’t pulled them apart by now. We’re all going to be late for class, that’s for sure. Then I notice a familiar face stood at the back – Professor Longbottom. He has one eyebrow raised, but his eyes are shining, and he actually looks on the verge of grinning. Well, at least they provide entertainment for the staff.

James and Claudette pull apart. They look at each other for a moment, (I’m half-expecting a fond emotional reconciliation) when Claudette raises her arm and there’s a loud _whack!_ as she slaps him smartly on the cheek, then whirls on her heels and storms off through the throng. James pulls out his wand and touches it to his cheek, making the red mark fade away. “Bitch.” He mutters. Then he too disappears.

I despair.

“Hey,” I say quietly to Al, when Longbottom has dispersed the crowd. “Let’s skip class. Take the afternoon off. We don’t even have to plan how we’ll help your clinically insane brother, we can just chill.”

“My actual disgrace-of-a-wizard brother doesn’t even _deserve –“_

“Okay,” I cut in. “Let’s not say anything we regret. You know he’s having a hard time. I’m sure he would have come to see you, if his circumstances were different!”

“He’s mad. He’s actually gone crazy.” Al shakes his head. “I thought the Quidditch was one thing, but this! Did you see him, Scorp? He fucking _kissed_ her! After all that!”

This is getting messy now. Al barely ever swears. “Come on. You need a break.”

“We can’t skip class!” It seems this has only just sunk in. “We’ll…” He trails off.

“We’ll nothing. No one will know. And if they ask, I’ll say you were throwing up and I had to sort you out. I’m sure there’ll be a Puking Pastille around somewhere…?”

“Okay. Yeah. Yeah, why not? I could do with a rest from all of this madness.”

“The Room?” I ask.

“The Room.”

So that’s where we head.

****

It’s a surprise, when we’ve been nestled in the beanbags for a while, for the third Potter sibling to arrive. Al, poor thing, looks like this might just finish him off.

“ _Lil?”_

She puts her hands up, as if to emphasise she doesn’t mean any harm, and plonks down on the new beanbag that’s just appeared for her. “Don’t freak. I’m only missing Divination – and before you give me the whole older brother lecture, let me point out that’s highly hypocritical, all things considered.”

Al looks as if he’s considering this. “Okay, fine. What’s up? Also, how did you know we were in here?”

She reaches into her pocket and pulls out a crumpled piece of parchment. “This.”

“The map?!” Al exclaims, as I lean over to get a closer look at the inside of Hogwarts.

“I took it out of James’ trunk. Have you noticed how bad he’s gotten, recently? I was looking at this just a few minutes ago, and I’m guessing from the scene in the corridor that him and Claudette have had _another_ fight?”

“You could say that.” I say dryly.

“They’re getting as bad as you and Rose,” she flicks up an eyebrow at me.

“We digress.” I say quickly.

“Oh, yeah. So I sneaked this out of his trunk, but that’s not really important. What I really came to tell you about is what happened in my last COMC lesson.”

“Lily, I’m not being funny,” Al interrupts, “But Scorp and I came here to chill, not to hear drivel from you about how you’ve decided I should make it up with that stupid oaf.”

Lily visible bristles at Al’s description of Hagrid – but I’m so used to his opinion that by now it’s like water off a Grindylow’s back.

“Don’t be an ass, brother.” She says, measuredly. “Although that would be for everyone’s benefit, I’m not completely crazy. No, he has a message for all of you.”

“Go on then,” I urge, before Al can get all hatred-filled again.

“Now, I’ve no idea what this is about, so I hope this makes more sense to you. But he says, he knows your secret. He says he overheard yours and Dax’s argument, Scorpius, with James’ friends at Christmas, and he found out what you’re all trying to keep hidden. He also says, don’t worry, he wants to help, and you should go see him as soon as possible, as many of you that can. He thinks he may have some extra information – he called it ‘of the same type that your Beauxbatons girl is looking for’.”

Al and I exchange dark looks. Hagrid knows. Another one to add to the list. It’s a mighty good job he’s got a soft spot for James, because a slip of the tongue to the wrong people, and James could _literally_ be up in court.

“Thanks Lil,” Al says, and he looks like he means it. “I’ll make sure some of us go with Scorp to see him.”

“And you.” Lily is resilient; Al stays quiet.

“Well,” Lily says, when she realises Al won't budge, a fierce look on her face, “I-“

“Nope.” Al cuts her off. “Sorry, but don’t bother trying. You’re-“

“ _Too young,”_ she finishes the sentence, looking disgusted. “That’s what everyone used to say to Mum, and now see where it got them!”

“This is different. If we wage war, I promise you can be on the front line. But for now,” Al says calmly, “We really do need to keep this between as few people as possible. Otherwise, we would tell you.”

“If it’s to do with James, I’m his sister!”

“Yes, and you’re also mine. And I say, the answer’s no. I’m sorry, Lily, it’s just too risky.”

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake!” She bounces up, pushes the beanbag away furiously, and storms out.

I look at all after the door's disappeared behind her, my mind working double-time to process the new information. “So. We’ll tell the others tomorrow, after dinner. It’s Gryffindor Quidditch practice tonight. We'd better let Claudette know, too - that’s if she hasn’t murdered James by tonight.”

“Yeah. I mean, if Hagrid does have info on Alec and Victor, and he’s not just spouting crap as usual, then it’d be helpful. All we’d need to do is bargain with them over it.”

“Well,” I say with a sigh, “Let’s hope so. Sorry this plan-free zone turned into… another plan.”

Al laughs. “Come on,” He starts to get up and offers me his hand. “Let’s see if we got away with truanting.”

****

At 7.26pm exactly, I leave the common room. Al is (as I was) writing up a lengthy Potions essay, and waves me away with a flick of his hand when I make some excuse about going to find Cosmo and owl my parents. Of course, that isn’t what this trip across the school is for. I pull my cloak tighter round my shoulders, as even with all the other students back, the stone corridors are still chilly. Or maybe I’m just shaking with nerves, like somehow even my body knows that this is crunch time. Whatever, I tuck my hands into my pockets, wishing that the walk hadn’t ended so quickly. It feels like I’ve Apparated here, and I don’t like it. I need more time - I don’t even know what I’m going to say to her. ‘Would you like to be my girlfriend?’ doesn’t just seem to fit, the way it did with Aria. Or maybe nothing really did _fit_ when I was with Aria, and that’s why it went so pear-shaped. At least with Rose, there’s never awkward silences.

I give the password, ‘Gurdyroot’ to the Fat Lady, and go in. This, of course, was a deliberate choice – a night when I know at least some of our mates are at Quidditch. I spot Rose straight away, sat by the fire with a mug in her hands, and feel slightly guilty that I almost wish she hadn’t been in.

There’s no turning back now. “Hey,” I say quietly, so as not to make her jump as I approach her. “Fancy taking a walk with me?”

“What’re you doing here?” She exclaims, and it may be wishful thinking but I swear she looks pleased to see me.

“Come on,” I say. “I’ll explain.”

Luckily, by some wild grace of Merlin, it seems none of the rest of the group are around. I breathe a sigh of relief that I've avoided their awkward questions. Rose leaves her tea behind and stands up.

“Sure,” she says, and I can’t quite place what her tone of voice is saying. “Lead the way.”

So we go back out of the common room, and I take her to the bench we’ve sat on many a time to talk. Or maybe it was only once. My mind is blurring; I don’t remember.

She sits down second, and looks at me carefully, neatly tucking her curls behind her ears. “You’re scaring me! Is it about James?” She has _no_ idea. Is that a bad sign? Should I back out now? I look at her for a long moment, and her brown eyes meet my grey ones.

However, it seems my mouth has taken a mind of its own. “Go out with me.” I say, clearly. Without doubt. Which is, I guess, exactly how I feel about this girl.

“ _What_?” She’s incredulous, and stares at me in shock.

“You heard me.” I watch her carefully as I go on. “You drive me insane, but I love it. There’s no one that I’d rather have make me crazy.”

“That was almost poetic, Malfoy,” suddenly, she’s back to last names. It sounds harsher when she says it. “I almost believed you.” She turns away from me, and my heart feels like it has sunk into my stomach. _Shit._

“Hey,” I say, inwardly wondering _why_ I am still going on. I gently take her hand in mine. “I _do_ mean it. You _do_ make me crazy! Because I can’t stop thinking about you. You know how good we’d be together…” She still doesn’t look at me. “We have this chemistry, don’t we? When I’m with you, it’s electric – I want it to always be like that.”

She says nothing, for a minute. She still won’t look at me. “We’d kill each other,” she says finally, turning towards me. “We’d fight all the time!” She raises her eyebrows in her typical Rose Weasley way.

“But would we? When was the last time we argued? Like proper at-each-others-throats argued? I question.

She has nothing to say to that. I smirk, because I know, at least for now, I’m right.

“You hate me.” She says after a moment. “I hate you! We’re… bad together. We –“

“Rose.” I use her name to make her listen. “I really like you.” I say slowly, carefully. “And I’d just leave it if I knew for sure you didn’t want this – but I think… I think that you like me, too.”

She looks at me then, fully. Her lips are parted and her cheeks are flushed and she looks so beautiful. She sighs. It feels like I wait forever for her to speak.

“I – ugh! Fine! I admit it! You’re like my Kryptonite  – I _know_ that this isn’t going to end well, yet… Oh for Merlin’s sake, you did always know too much.” She shakes her head. And then, just as unexpectedly, she throws her arms around my neck, and I laugh, in relief, and hug her to me.

“Yes.” She says into my ear, more softly now, her head on my shoulder. “You’re right. I want this, too. You have _no_ idea.”

“Hm,” I smirk, and play with a curl of her hair. “I think I might…” I give my best seductive tone.

She pulls back to look at me, and her eyes are fiery. Her lips close onto mine, and my hands tangle into her hair, our bodies pressing as close together as is humanly possible. I guess I have my answer. And it feels like _heaven._

There’s not much talking after that, but at one point I can’t help but add, “There’s no one like you, Rose Weasley. Not even close.”

****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh! They're together! I hope this is the moment you've been waiting for ;) tried to pile on the cheese, I think it's quite cute, personally. Let me know what you thought in the comments, and keep reading - L


	20. Going Public

Rose and I don’t go to bed until very late that night. It turns out that with all the spying and sneaking we’ve had to do for the James thing, we’ve become very good at getting in after curfew – with the help of a good old Disillusionment charm, of course.

“It’s all making sense now, you know?” Rose whispers as we walk back. “You, getting me that Christmas present, and kissing me whenever you could, and all that…”

“Yeah,” I say, almost laughing at how ironic it all is. “I’ve liked you for a while.”

“Me, too. But I guess you probably knew that. I mean, I slept in your flipping _bed.”_

“No!” I exclaim, and she has to shush me. “I had no idea at all. I thought you were just lonely, or bored, or something.”

“Oh, Scorp! Don’t be stupid. I stopped hating you that first night when we agreed to be civil,” she shakes her head in disbelief. “And then I kept making excuses to see you.”

“Same – but it took forever to admit that I had feelings for you.”

“Yeah! I thought I was Aria’s replacement, a rebound, so I refused to let myself fall for you…” She sighs. “We’re idiots, aren’t we?”

“Definitely. Why didn’t we just _talk_ to each other?” I grin, and loop my arm round her shoulder (which is disorientating, because right now we both blend into the wall.)

“You know Al is going to _kill_ you, right? He’s like the epitome of an overprotective brother. James, too…” She trails off there, and I know it’s because of what she can’t say: or he _would_ be, if he didn’t have his situation going on.

“Yeah. He’s going to _hate_ this. That’s if… We are, like, telling the others and stuff, aren’t we?”

“I mean, I’d like to? And do stuff like this in the daytime,” she wriggles herself closer to me.

“Without the invisibility charm. Okay. Cool,” I say. “So, we need to let them know at some point…”

“How about tomorrow? Breakfast?”

“I mean, sure. Better if it’s over and done with, yeah?”

“Definitely. And Scorpius?” We’re at the junction now, where she turns for Gryffindor tower, and I go downstairs under the lake.

“Mm?” My arm is still round her, and I feel like it’s going to take a real pull for her to get me to move it.

“I really like you. I mean it. And I’m super glad you made me admit it.” She smiles. And I kiss her, a soft, sweet one.

“Goodnight, Rose.” I say. “See you in the morning.”

“Look forward to it,” she smirks, and it makes me want to laugh because I _swear_ she has picked that one up from me.

****

I make small talk with Al as we walk down to breakfast. I’m thinking that this may be the last conversation we have as real friends before he disowns me completely, and I am careful to be completely cheery and to sing his praises. If he ditches me as a mate, I’ll miss him like crazy. I hate all the other Slytherins in our year. Or at minimum, mildly dislike them, so it’ll be a serious loss. And from the Hagrid example we know when someone really pisses him off, he _never_ forgives. Maybe I can pay off someone to convince him to like me again. Shame most of his family and friends are already rich.

“Scorp? _Scorp?_ ” Al waves his hand in front of my face. He’s holding a dish of hot pancakes, and I’m wondering how we got sat in the Hall without me properly noticing. “I said, would you like some pancakes?”

“Oh, no thanks.” I say, looking round distractedly. Did Rose mean I should just blurt it out to him right now? “I’m not very hungry.”

It’s at that moment that I spot her – _my girlfriend_ – isn’t that fun to say? coming into the Hall with Thea, Dom, Marie, and Tess. Aw, isn’t it nice they do things as a dorm? And it’s also at that moment that the complete idea of what to do just pops neatly into my head.

“One sec, Al…” I say, not looking at him. I ignore the call of ‘Scorpius!’ as I get up and walk over to the group of girls. I know he, as well as a lot of the others, will be watching, so that’s why I do what I do. I stop just in front of the doorway, and the five of them stop too, opposite me. Then I take a step closer to Rose, who, coincidentally is right in the middle, and I kiss her. A proper, on the lips, few-seconds-strong kiss. I ignore the fact that there are loud gasps from the girls next to us, and wolf-whistles from somewhere else in the Hall, and concentrate instead on the fact I get to kiss this gorgeous person next to me. It’s quite reminiscent of James and Claudette yesterday, actually.

Rose eventually pulls back and grins at me, a slow smile that takes over her whole face. “I like this reveal,” she whispers. “It’s not very like you.”

“No,” I murmur back, “But I thought we may as well go big or go home. And, I think everyone will know, now.”

And I’m not wrong. I turn back to look at our audience, still keeping Rose’s hand in mine, and realise a solid 80% of the students are staring straight at us. At the teachers’ table, there are a lot of disapproving glares and pursed lips, but Hagrid’s face stands out, and he is looking like he wants to come over and congratulate us.

Dom steps in between us, after pushing Tess and Marie towards the Gryffindor table. “In the usual circumstances, I’d say _what. The. Actual. Fuck?_ But right now I’m not going to pretend I didn’t see this coming, and to be honest I think you have bigger Merpeople to fry.”

Before either of us has time to digest that information, we follow her eye line to the Slytherin table, where Al is looking absolutely furious. Oh, joy.

Rose ignores that, though, and turns back to Dom. “You _knew?”_ She exclaims, looking from her to Thea.

“No!” Thea objects, “I had no clue! I thought you two hated each other? Is this some sort of hate fuelled passionate affair?”

Rose laughs; I’m still watching Al. “Calm down, Tee. Unless you want sordid details, which I _don’t_ think you do.”

“Urgh!” Both Thea and Dom screw their faces up at _that_ thought. “I knew.” Dom carries on. “Or at least, I had an inkling this would happen. You two have that classic love-hate relationship going on, and it was only a matter of time.” She rolls her eyes. “I’m annoyed, though, because it won’t take Tee here long to find herself some adorable caring guy and I’ll be the only single one!”

“Anyway,” I say, interrupting Dom. “I think you’re right about one thing – we have bigger issues to deal with.” And I nod towards Al, who has just stood up from the table and is walking over. Around us, the other students start to go back to talking and eating, and we’re no longer the centre of attention.

“ _Okay_ ,” Dom chirps. “I’m gonna leave you guys to it, but I’ll just say this – don’t fight and break up in a week because I _really_ can’t deal with that level of angst again.” And she seizes Thea’s arm (who still looks considerably perplexed) and drags her over to their table.

Al reaches us. He looks from me to Rose, and we both avoid his eyes, sheepish. I brace myself for the blow.

“You know, when I told you guys to quit all your fighting at the start of the year, this is _not_ what I meant.”

“Are you really mad?” Rose asks. “Because –“

“- No,” Al rakes a hand through his hair and gives us both stern looks. “I’m not really mad. But I am annoyed that you didn’t tell me! Either of you! Scorp, I’m your best mate, and Rose, you’re like a sister to me. I would’ve been supportive.”

“You? Supportive?” I repeat, incredulously. “Of me and your cousin?”

“Okay… Maybe not _totally,_ but…”

“Not at all,” Rose raises her eyebrows. “You’d have killed him! In fact, why are you not fuming now?”

“I’ll be fuming if you treat her bad,” he directs that one to me. “Rest assured if you break her heart, I’ll throw you in the lake with a Grindylow tank tied to your ankles.” He shoves one finger into my chest and glares at me.

“If he treats me bad,” Rose says before I can speak, “I’ll dump him in the lake myself.”

“Hey!” I object, “What about if _you_ treat _me_ bad!?”

Rose and Al both laugh. “Come on,” Al says to me. “We’re going to be late for Potions.”

So, in light of the fact that he seems to have taken this rather well, I lean over and peck Rose’s cheek. “See you later.”

And Al and I walk away. It almost feels as if it’s always been this easy.

****

Once Rose and I are sufficiently ‘public’ and the group have accepted it as best they can, the next job on the list is to go see Hagrid. Al thinks that he is somehow granted a free pass to be excused, because, as he puts it, he’s ‘been so tolerant of Scorp and Rose’. But then Fred and Dom remind him that actually, they are Rose’s cousins too, and anything Al has to put up with, they do too. Honestly, I’d think this relationship was doomed already if I didn’t know how hard Rose and I had fallen for each other. It still feels weird to do couple-y things, like her resting her head on my shoulder when we sit in the Room, or me going to meet her, with a quick ‘just nipping to see Rose’ called in Al’s direction. I guess I wonder, really, why I didn’t just tell her weeks ago. I think realistically, I’ve known for a while what she meant to me. Maybe I even always knew, right from when I sat down next to her on the stairs, and put my arm round her for the first time.

Anyway, I digress. We are meant to be meeting Hagrid, the whole flipping lot of us (even Claudette is stood at the top of the hill), but Fred and Dax are late.

“He’ll be doing his hair,” Dom announces, looking at her watch. I’m presuming she means Fred here. “I swear that boy puts more effort into getting ready than I do.”

“Dom,” Thea laughs, “You shoved on a hoodie and jeans this morning, and you’ve not even brushed your hair. I think everyone here put more effort in than you did.”

“Hey,” Dax objects, suddenly appearing over the crown of the hill, “She still looks hot, though.”

“Thanks babe,” Dom pokes her tongue out. “What we want to know, though, is where in the bloody name of Merlin is _Fred_?”

“He’s-“

“-Here. Come on, whatcha all waiting for? Honestly, we’ll never get there if you’re all standing around like Flobberworms.” And Fred strides right on past us. Dom pulls her wand out, but Thea already has a hand on her arm.

“Let’s not be setting a bad impression for Claudette,” Thea says. “It’s her first time hanging out with us all!” And she turns and smiles at Claudette, who has decided to walk in the middle of Rose and I, with a face like a slapped arse.

“Claudette!” I give her a jab in the ribs. “ _Be nice.”_ I hiss. She grimaces at Thea in response.

Fred is the first one to reach Hagrid’s hut, and he raps neatly on the door. “Hagrid? You there? We’ve come after Lily’s message?”

Hagrid’s huge face appears in the doorway. “’Ello, you lot! ‘Ere, come in, come in!”

But then we all sort of pile into the house, and it is suddenly very evident that we’re not going to fit. “Erm,” Hagrid scratches his beard, squished up against one wall. Rose, Claudette and I are right at the back, and Rose steps outside again, with me following her.

“Hey!” She calls from outside, waving her wand. Then six wooden chairs appear on the grass outside the hut, and there’s a smaller pile of wood in the middle of them. “I got some chairs! And Hagrid, you’ll have to bring that one from your house.”

Dom raises an eyebrow, but Rose speaks before she can get a word in. “Yeah, I know they’re not the best, but I tried, okay? Now are you sitting on it, or what?” At which Dom sits abruptly and shuts up.

When we’re all comfy, Rose asks Hagrid to explain. “What do you know, then?” I also notice Al is sat as far away from him as possible, and is staring fixedly at the ground. Hell, there’s not a lot I dislike about this mate of mine, but his hatred of Hagrid is one thing we will _always_ disagree on.

“Thing is,” Hagrid starts, “When you’ve bin around th’ school as long as I ‘ave, you learn when somethin’ is up. And those mates o’ James’, well, they’ve bin catchin’ me eye since their firs’ week ‘ere.”

“Get to the point,” I hear Al mutter from next to me, rolling his eyes.

I also think Hagrid must’ve heard, because he glances up at Al and then rushes on with the story. “So, um, yeh – the las’ week of term, that’s when it was. I was tendin’ ter some o’ the Bowtruckles, sorta near the Whompin’ Willow, an’ they was coming back across up ter school. So I couldn’t ‘elp but listen in to a bit o’ their conversation – yer know how it is. And Alec, he’s the taller one, int he? Well he was sayin’ summat bout money, like a bribe, if yer get me. He mentioned your cousin, Rosie – and Dom ‘nd Fred, course –“ (notice how he purposely pretends Al isn’t here – it’s honestly almost like they’re an awkward couple after a breakup.) “And said ‘we’re already in debt as it is, what with paying off th’ guy who did the snoopin’ for us, we need this’ and then there was summat else – oh, yeh, I think they was sorta bartering a price, they definitely wanted someone ter pay ‘em it.”

“Do you remember how much they settled on?” Fred asks. “Or who they wanted to pay it?”

“Mm, yeh, I think they said the price was 50 Galleons, but they dint mention who was gon’ ter pay up.”

“It’ll be James,” Dax says darkly. “For sure.”

“Thanks, Hagrid.” Thea pats his huge arm. “This is actually really helpful.”

“I do not understand!” Claudette bursts out suddenly – I’d almost forgotten she was there. “Why ees eet ‘elpful? So zees boys were a bit short on ze cash – so what? It could be anybody who zey wanted to pay zem.”

“No, Claudette,” Rose says patiently, “The thing is, they’ll have paid someone to spy on James, after they found out about his job, then they’ll have got carried away, and offered him more money than they have. So now, they want James to pay _them,_ in return for them keeping his secret. So if we stop him from paying them, they’ll out him – in which they win. And if he pays that ridiculous amount of money, then they’ll win that way too.”

“Soo?” Claudette asks. “What do we do?”

And to that, Rose doesn’t know what to say. “Al?” She looks over at her cousin. “What do we do? You’re good at all the planning.”

“Well,” he says carefully, considering. “We stop James from paying, and then we stop them from outing him.”

“And how do we do that?” I ask.

“First, we’d have to talk to James, tell him under no circumstances is he allowed to give any money to them – we’re going to have to let him know that we know his secret. And then, we… Well, I don’t know. We could go to McGonagall, because this is blackmail, but then yeah, there’s the obvious problem that she’d inevitably find out the whole truth. I guess we could take away something that they want, and then get them to make an Unbreakable Vow or something, in return for it back.

“You really think zat they would make zat Vow? Just over some leetle object we ‘ave stolen? Surely no one would make zat Vow unless eet was an _amazing_ reason.” Claudette frowns.

“We’d need an _amazing_ reason then.” Dom says. “Something they’d be willing to trade back for James’ secret.”

“Well then.” Dax pushes up, his hands on his thighs, and then helps up Thea, too. “Let’s get onto finding that thing, shall we?”


	21. A Couple of Prisoners

“I really should go,” Rose whispers.

“No, just a few more minutes,” I kiss her lips to stop her from objecting any further, and her hands find their way back up my shirt. We’re in that spot I vowed I would never come with a girl – the corridor is way not private enough, and the little window seat is made out of cold marble, very uncomfortable.

“Remember when you burst in on me here?” she pauses, one hand on my cheek. “And I was with Gregory, at the end of the memorial?”

“Such bad taste,” I shudder. “During such an emotional time, too.”

“What was bad taste? Gregory or the timing?”

I kiss behind her ear. “Both.”

“You can’t talk!” Rose argues. “You dated a human Barbie doll!”

“What’s a Barbie doll?” I ask.

“You know you get the cutest wrinkle when you’re confused,” Rose laughs.

“I’m not cute! I’m strong, and manly, and …”

“Cute. And a Barbie doll is like a Muggle girls’ toy. She’s skinny and blonde, and made of plastic – a super fake and unrealistic portrayal of a girl.”

“Oh. Yeah, I mean, I can sorta see the link…” I smirk.

“So you don’t miss her?”

“Are you kidding? Rose Jean Weasley, you are the most amazing girl I know. The only time I compare you to Aria is to thank Merlin for how much easier this relationship is. Okay?”

“Okay.” She curls herself closer in my arms. I kiss the top of her curly head. “And you’re ten times prettier, of course.”

“Ten? I think you mean a _hundred_.”

“Oh yeah, my bad.”

Then there’s an almighty screech, as the tapestry we’re hid behind is pulled to one side. There’s one part of me that notices how they’ve put it on a curtain rail since the last time I broke it, but then that thought is overridden by the more important question of ‘what in hell is going on?’. Rose doesn’t scream this time around, as light floods in from the corridor, illuminating the figure that’s exposed us. I think that’s probably due to her recognising immediately who it is – there’s only one person we know who would say ‘Awww!” in such a thick, throaty accent.

“Aren’t you two just _adorable?_ Scorpeeus I always knew zat you would make a good boyfriend!”

“You knew I was a good boyfriend when I was with Aria.” I grumble, pulling apart from Rose.

“No, you were a bad boyfriend to her, but she was very annoying, so she deserved eet.”

“Claudette, really?” Rose looks irritated. “Couldn’t whatever you want to say to Scorpius wait?”

“Nope.” Claudette pops the ‘p’, and stands with her hands on her hips. I reluctantly get up, and pull Rose up with me. “And besides,” she carries on, “Eet concerns ze both of you.”

Rose rolls her eyes, but the three of us fall into step together, and walk slowly back down the corridor as Claudette begins to talk.

“You see, eet is about Alec and Victorr. And what ‘Agrid said about zem.” She bites her lip, then smirks a little – trying to keep us in suspense, of course.

“So, I ‘ave got that theeng, what you said you wanted! The theeng zat will force them to make the Vow. And I ‘ave done it all by myself, too! Are you impressed? All zat you need to do now is persuade them!” She looks at us, grinning, pleased with herself.

“Wait a minute…” Rose frowns. “We never decided what we were going to take… What exactly have you stolen, Claudette?”

Claudette giggles and looks sheepish, she tries to carry on walking, but Rose and I stop abruptly. “Claudette.” I say slowly. “Tell us.”

“ _Wellll,_ eet ees not exactly an object… Eet is more like, hm, how do you say? Oh – _metaphoreecal._ You see, I ‘ave stolen zere freedom!” We look at her blankly.

“I ‘ave locked them in the Room of Requirement!”

Oh, no.

****

I’ve always thought that the Room is reasonably easy to access – it seems to be a midpoint between both our common rooms, and of course it’s in a central corridor, too. Yet as we race across the castle, it feels as if it’s miles away. I’m dimly aware of the others behind me, having picked up Al, Dom, Fred, Dax and Thea from the Library beforehand, we make up a right motley crew as we head for the crime scene. I can also hear Dom shouting at Claudette as we hurry down the stairs, their voices loud over the bounce of quick feet on each step.

“Claudette, is there _actually_ something wrong with you? How would you think this would help!?”

“Do not be stupeed, Dominique, you know zat this ees actually a good thing. You ‘ave them right where you want them now!”

“Yeah, and how likely will they be to help us now?! Not fucking likely! This is like, _kidnapping!”_

“Calm down, Dom.” Al says breathlessly, as we _finally_ ground to a halt outside the Room. “Let’s not overreact before we’ve even seen them. Scorpius, are you gonna do it?”

So I start pacing in front of the door. _Let us find the place where Alec and Victor are trapped,_ I think. _The place where Claudette has lured them. Show us the room where they are._

And the door appears. I push it open, still panting a little, desperately wishing for them to be inside, and perhaps lacking in any murderous intentions – at least for the first few minutes. Is that too much to ask?

Well, I get my first wish. In the centre of the Room - which has taken on a bare, cell-like appearance to house its’ prisoners - there are two wooden chairs, placed back-to-back. And sat on these two chairs, with their wrists and ankles bound with rope, are Alec and Victor. As the others file in behind me, I hear a little yelp of shock: Thea. Rose rushes forward to set them free, I presume, but Al throws out his arm and blocks her.

“What?” She exclaims. “We can’t leave them like this!” Claudette also seems to have put a tongue-tying spell on Alec and Victor, because although their eyes bulge with shock, and maybe even fear, they look like they’re unable to speak.

“No, I know, but we can’t just let them out, they’ll _kill_ us. Even without those,” he adds, as Claudette rather sheepishly brandishes their two wands in her hand. “With their bare hands, I’d wager.”

“Okay.” Rose concedes. “But at least let me allow them to speak.” And Al nods, so she points her wand towards the two of them.

A split second later, the air rings with their yelled insults. I think Victor shouts the loudest, as if to make up for the fact he has to twist his head round to see us. Their faces are red and convulse with rage, their fists are clenched and they jerk their chairs to try and break free. Rose and Dom recoil, and Thea shifts a little closer to Al. Claudette, at the back of the group, looks at the floor, as if she’s hoping to disappear into it. Al breathes out heavily, then glances at Fred, who’s stood a little bit behind me. I’d be offended if Fred wasn’t easily the tallest and most muscled out of all of us.

Fred comes forward, and the two of them edge closer to our prisoners. “This is all a misunderstanding,” Al says calmly, his hands wide. “Claudette didn’t work on our orders, or anything like that. In fact, one could even say that this is all down to the language barrier, hm?” He looks back at us, and we all nod eagerly.

“I would say zat, definitely,” Claudette’s distinct tone calls from the back, saying the right thing for once. “Just a misunderstandeeng.” she repeats.

 _“I. Don’t. Fucking. Care.”_ Alec spits, and I’m surprised Al’s still standing with the look he’s giving him. “Shut up with that crap about Frenchie, she’s done enough for this _century,_ and just let us out, for Merlin’s sake!” Victor pounds his feet on the stone floor in what I’m guessing is agreement. Claudette shrinks further backwards.

“…We _will.”_ Fred says slowly, carefully. “Once you’ve vowed not to tell James’ secret. To anyone. Or to use it against him as a threat.”

I look at Al, who’s stood the closest to Alec and Victor, and try to catch his eye. Surely they aren’t planning to get them to make the Vow? Surely that’s a little over the top for right now? Isn’t it bad enough we _literally_ have them locked up? Not that they don’t completely deserve it, course, but…

I frown at Al when he finally looks at me, and raise an eyebrow. He gives the tiniest shake of his head. Well, I’m glad we’re on the same page, at least. Fred, however, seems to be working to a plan of his own. He runs a hand through his tight dark curls, and then pushes it into his pocket, reaching for… oh, for crying out loud, he’s got his wand out.

“And just to make sure you don’t go back on that, you can both make the Unbreakable Vow.”

There’s a sharp intake of breath from behind, it’ll be one of the girls, and it shudders through the room at the same moment Al puts a calming hand on Fred’s wand arm. No one speaks. Even our two enemies’ jaws seem to be frozen to the floor.

“Fred, no.” Rose breathes. “We can’t.”

“She’s right,” Thea echoes, stepping closer to Fred – his eyes are resolutely trained ahead, however, and he ignores them both. “I know we talked about it, but actually _doing_ this to people isn’t fair.”

“Oh, give over, Tee.” Dom snaps. “Stop being so wimpy, both of you. Nothing bad will happen if they don’t ever break it.” She shakes her short hair in annoyance.

“I zink-“

“-Oh, shut up, Claudette,” I interrupt. She quietens.

“I agree,” says Dax. “And if anything does happen, then they had it coming.”

Al looks at me, his face impassive. “Well, Scorp – it’s three against three. What do you say?”

I watch Alec and Victor’s faces for a minute. I imagine how it will feel to know that they are irreparably bound by magic to do what we want them to, to know that we have solved this problem for James once and for all, that the whole thing can be put to bed. Then I look back at Al, who I’ve shared a dorm with for six years, who’s logic and sense of morality is never questionable, and Rose, who by some twist of fate I have come to fall for and trust beyond anybody else.

“No.” I say quietly. “This isn’t right. I agree with you.”

And I scrunch up my face so I won’t have to see (although I can unfortunately still hear) the protests of extremely hacked-off Dax, Fred, and Dom. Next to me, Rose leans in close to Al, putting a hand on his shoulder and whispering something in his ear. He nods once.

“ _Muffliato_!” Rose swishes her wand unexpectedly in the direction of Alec and Victor. “I’m going to wipe their memories.” She says abruptly, her voice barely above a murmur, her fists clenched. “And before you Tee, or you, Scorp, object, just think about it. They can forget about this, about being trapped here, about the money, about the whole thing to do with James. We can be done with it.”

“Rose, it’s _illegal.”_ Dom says, after a beat of silence, awed. “You – you sure?”

“Rose, you could be done by the Wizengamot.” I object. “Let me do the spell, at least.”

“No – it has to be me.” She tucks her red curls behind her ears, puts her hands on her hips. “I’m the best at spellwork, and this isn’t exactly _Wingardium Leviosa,_ is it?”

Thea looks at her in horror, and Dax shakes his head in disbelief. “You all agree then? That this should be done?” Rose carries on.

“I just don’t want you to get caught.” I say. “Are you sure one of us can’t do it instead?”

“Shush, Scorp.” Dom waves a hand at me, although not unkindly. “Yes, Rose. We all agree.”

It seems to happen in seconds. Rose steps in front of both Al and Fred, who fall back in next to me. Facing Alec and Victor, with no one by her side, she looks tiny and vulnerable, but the determination waves off her like a red heat. I’m reminded suddenly of the altercation in the corridor – to Rose, right now must feel like well-earned revenge. I don’t hear her shout the spell like she did with _Muffliato,_ instead, she murmurs it slowly, like she’s enjoying the feeling of power. Then time seems to speed up: Al grabs the back of my robes, in the split second before we are all propelled backwards - the chairs with Alec and Victor, and the silhouette of Rose shrink in fast-forward. It is like the Room is spitting us out. We are sucked through the air, I feel it tousling my hair and fluttering my tie. Then, as abruptly as it started, I land on the corridor floor with an almighty bump, and overbalance, falling sideways. The ceiling spins, and I can hear similar yelps of pain and surprise from the rest of my friends.

“Oh, geeve over,” Claudette snaps, and hauls me up by the collar. She is the only one still stood up, and she down looks at Al, Dom, Dax, Fred and Thea with serious contempt. I’m struggling to register quite what is going on.

“Claudette.” Al says slowly, as he stands up. “What. Did. You. Do?”

“Where’s Rose?” I ask.

“And Alec and Victor?” Fred looks around in confusion.

“I could not let her do that spell.” Claudette straightens out her skirt. “She would be caught, for certain, and she does not deserve that – she ees a good leetle student. Oh, watch out, by the way.”

And at that moment Rose too is flung out of the door to the Room, landing next to me. She bounces up straight away though, rubbing her head.

“You had no right!” She cries in the general direction of Claudette. Behind her, the door recedes into blank wall again.

“Yes, I deed,” Claudette answers calmly, now pulling her tie back into place. “I deed you a favour – you should be grateful. And plus, I am older zan you, therefore I ‘ave more authority.”

Rose stiffens in anger. “We knew what we were doing!”

“No, you were making a beeg mistake, trust me. And you are lucky I was zere to ‘elp.”

“What did you did you _do?_ ” Dom presses.

“I cancelled her charm,” Claudette states, almost proudly. “I stopped her from taking zere memories. Instead, I just made zem forget zat I ‘ad trapped them ‘ere. To them, they simply spent a quiet night in zere room.”

“You… What?” I ask, astounded. “How do you even _do_ that?”

“She had to act at just the right second, and make her spell more powerful than mine, so it cancelled my one out.” Rose sighs.

“Not gonna lie, Claudie,” Fred shakes his head. “I didn’t even think you were that clever.”

“And zen I just made the Room spit you out.” She finishes smugly.

“But this makes no _sense,”_ Al looks irritated. “Why would you go that far to stop us when it was you who put them here in the first place? Surely you don’t care what happens to them?”

“I wanted you to _see,”_ Claudette says patiently, “That you could not go to the ends of ze Earth for annoying leetle James. Zat making the Unbreakble Vow was unrealeestic, as was causing them physical pain. But you just came up wiz another rule-breaking idea, and I ‘ad to put a stop to zat, too. Do you not realise how much trouble you are getting yourselfs in for ‘im? And ‘e ees not even _worth_ eet.”

There is silence as we all look at Claudette. Then Al shakes his head.

“He is worth it.” He says quietly. “He’s our family.”

The others nod in assent. “And if you can’t see that, or accept it, then I think we’ll work alone from now on.” And he turns, and walks away from us. Slowly, the others all traipse after him, adjusting their uniform and muttering in various stages of disbelief. Then I’m left alone, with Claudette.

“I get it.” I say to her. “I really do. You dislike James, and you want to help the good ones – us. You think what we’re doing for him is stupid. But the thing you don’t understand, is that Al, and Rose, and Fred - and probably even Dax and Thea and me, to some extent – love James. Want to save him from this mess he’s made. Don’t care about what it takes. You wouldn’t understand it, because I don’t think you’ve bothered to care for anyone here enough, to want to help them like that. I’m sorry, Claudette. Honestly. But I agree with the others.”

And I leave her behind, too.

****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to name this something like 'The Prisoner of Claudette' or some other pun, but I thought that would be super corny and not very funny :) anyways, hope you're enjoying red and gold, let me know in the comments! - L


	22. A Coming of Age

_Dear Scorpius,_

_Your father and I miss you so much! It already feels like Christmas was months away. Of course, your birthday is next week (and don’t worry, we will send an owl with your gift) so we wanted to make sure the air was cleared before then. That way, you’ll be sure to open your birthday mail and not throw it away, or anything drastic like that._

_In truth, we do realise that perhaps we were a little hasty with our plans for your apartment. You were right when you said you need to make your own decisions, and learn to stand on your own two feet. You see, you are our only son, and sometimes our judgements can be clouded by the fact we want the best for you. However, your father has finally come round to the idea the flat will be let out for the foreseeable future, and it will be completely your choice of when/if that arrangement is to end. I hope that you too have put the unhappy parts of your visit behind you, and that you can forgive us for what was really just loving parents making a mistake._

_I bet you had a lovely Christmas with all of your friends back at Hogwarts. Did you manage to sort out that poor boy’s problems? And what about you and that Rose Weasley? Have you started afresh in this New Year? I hope school is going well – remember to work hard, your NEWTs will be upon you before you know it, and they’re the key to a secure job, of course. Write back when you can - we are counting down the days to Easter when we can see you again! All our love,_

_Mum and Dad xxx_

“I want to know why she _always_ writes ‘love, Mum and Dad’, when quite frankly she wrote the whole thing and he had basically no input.” I fold up the letter rather roughly and push it back into the envelope.

“Here,” Rose says, and takes it out of my hands. We’re having breakfast in the Great Hall, and Al and I seem to have migrated tables. The teachers, as usual when it comes to him, are turning a rather favourable blind eye. Al glugs down his orange juice before looking at me.

“Mine are the same, mate,” He watches Rose re-folding my letter, so it neatly slips into the envelope, and then she taps it with her wand so the creases disappear. “Dads are oblivious – it’s not just yours, honest.”

“ _Yes_ ,” I argue, “But your Dad actually _writes_ you a letter once in a while. Mine just has his name tacked onto the end of my Mum’s.”

“My Dad isn’t the letter writing type.” Rose shrugs. “Mum’s are about four feet long, and Dad’s little paragraph at the end is like a scrawly little inch.”

I don’t say what I’m actually thinking – that both Ron and Harry _write._ My Dad probably doesn’t even know who to address at the top of the page. My self-pitying thoughts, however, are interrupted when a pair of hands pounce on my shoulders.

“Dom?” I question, twisting round to look at her.

“We want to know what you’re doing for your birthday.” She says in her usual no-nonsense way. “Or, what we’re going to do for you, for your birthday.”

“No no no,” I say quickly, putting my hands up and leaning back from her and Thea, into the edge of the table. “I don’t want a party. Or a big celebration. Or anything like that. I want a nice chill evening with all of you – my actual mates, not random people from our House. And no fuss.”

Dom and Thea exchange looks. “But we’ve not had a big sesh since – since James’! That miserable little seeing-in of the New Year doesn’t count _at all._ ”

“Hey, that wasn’t our fault,” Al objects. “We were too stressed about James and everything to want to celebrate properly, and anyway, there were only seven of us there.”

“Well,” I cut in, “I only want seven of us to be there for mine. I say ‘mine’ like it’s a sesh we’re planning – Dom, don’t be getting any ideas. What I mean is, I only want seven of us to be in the Room of Requirement on the night of my birthday.” I try to make it clear to her, knowing that it’s unlikely I’ll get my way.

“But Scorpius, it’s the big 1–7! Can’t we have a small gathering?”

“No.” I say firmly, turning back to my breakfast. “Absolutely not.”

“What day’s your birthday on, mate?” Al asks.

“A Saturday.” I mutter. No need to encourage Dom more.

“What about Tess, and Damaris, and Rhys Warbeck, and, and all the other people you’re friends with that aren’t us six?!” Dom persists.

I sigh. Rose laughs, eating her croissant. I scowl at her, and resignedly look back at Dom.

“Firstly, I don’t _have_ any friends that aren’t you six! Everyone else is acquaintances. Including the other boys in our House. Isn’t that right, Al?”

Al takes a long time chewing. Thea jumps in in the gap. “Al has other friends, don’t you, Al?”

“Thea, that’s mean!” Rose is half-laughing still. “Now you’re making it sound like Scorp is a loner.”

“Since when are _you_ … You know what, never mind.” Dom shakes her head, looking at Rose with an odd expression, and it’s easy to guess why she’s at a loss for words – a couple of months ago, and Rose would’ve jumped at any chance to be ‘mean’ to me.

“What about Claudette?” Thea asks instead, looking a little sheepish.

“You know what happened with her.” I shrug. “She _was_ my mate, I guess, but all that’s over now.”

Rose looks thoughtful. “Maybe you should make up?” she suggests. “Hear me out, okay? She was saner, in my opinion, when she was around you, and I think it was good for you, too, to have someone to keep in check. It was that sort of unlikely friendship that you don’t realise is actually a proper good one until it springs up and surprises you, one day.”

“Or until she scuppers your one chance to solve _all_ your problems, and performs what I’m pretty sure is illegal magic on your girlfriend without your permission.” I finish her sentence. “No. She wasn’t even apologetic, after! That’s the problem with Claudette, she thinks everyone’s business is her own.”

“… I still think you should make up, though.” Rose raises her eyebrows at me. “You won’t admit it, but you’ll miss her soon.”

I don’t say anything, but what crosses my mind isn’t, in fact, _stop being so stubborn, Rose, and let me mind my own business._ Instead I’m thinking more along the lines of an Aria-comparison – when she was furious I was friends with pretty Gryffindor girls like Rose, Dom, and Thea, and was convinced it was just a sign that I didn’t like her. Rose, in contrast, is encouraging me to repair a friendship that may potentially be a threat to our relationship, because she wants the best for me. It’s so refreshing, I actually have to stop and be like, wait, I have this girl, and I’m not making up the whole thing.

“ _Anyway,_ ” Dom struggles to hide her irritation. “Are you a hundred per cent sure we can’t persuade you to have a party?”

“Nope.” I finish my juice, and make to stand up from the table. “Us seven, some good drinks, a healthy amount of sugary snacks, and the Room of Requirement. That’s what I want to do on Saturday the 7th of January. No arguments.”

****

In the week leading up to my seventeenth, we seem to avoid any meetings with Alec and Victor. It is almost as if we feel the spell of their memory loss will be broken if we interact with them, that suddenly a look of realisation will dawn on their faces, and they’ll cry ‘Hey! You locked us in a cell!’,  so it becomes an unspoken agreement that no words will be exchanged with them. Claudette, too, is oddly silent in the days before my birthday. Despite my words to Rose and the others, I think a small part of me hopes she’d come sidling over, full of grovelling apologies and her over the top French exclamatives. It seems not. And I do kinda miss her, Rose was right – it’s like I had an irritating puppy, who needed constant attention and an eye kept on her at all times – Claudette drove me up the wall, but I liked having her around. So. The day before my birthday, and I’ve gotten my wish; it will only be the seven of us tomorrow. I try not to let it bother me that I don’t really have anyone else to celebrate with, because good mates are what counts, aren’t they? Maybe Claudette’ll come round soon.

“You excited for tomorrow?” Al asks, smirking, as I come out of the bathroom. He’s sat cross-legged on his bed, supposedly reading through the Muggle Studies notes we have a test on in the morning, but instead mostly charming the dust on the windowsill to form patterns.

“Yeah, ish.” I say, towelling my hair. Crabbe and Flint are ignoring us, as per, their curtains drawn like shop shutters round their beds. “I mean, it’s not every day you turn seventeen.”

“I know! You could do anything you wanted, now – well, tomorrow. You could quit it here and go get a job! You don’t even have to live with you parents..." He trails off, wistful.

“What are you pining for?” I laugh, pulling on a grey pyjama t-shirt. “You _like_ your parents, and your siblings – when James isn’t playing up.”

“True,” Al allows, lying back on his bed. “But still! It’s the freedom, isn’t it?”

“The freedom of being seventeen.” I agree. “You watch out, my bed’ll be empty in the morning. I’ll be halfway to Rome by then.”

“Rome, huh? What about Rose? I’m sure she wouldn’t appreciate being left behind…” He winks at me.

I chuck a pillow at him and he deflects it, easily, with a shield charm.

“You know, you’re not bad together,” he muses, hands behind his head, looking up at the ceiling. I lie back and mirror his pose. “Like, you’re a lot better than I thought you’d be, if you get what I mean. She seems happier. And it’s not all messy and stressful, like it was when you were with Aria.”

“Thanks.” I say, and I mean it. From Al, that’s like very high praise. “I’d like to think I make her happy, but you never know…”

“Okay,” Al says firmly, turning over, and flicking his wand at the light so it goes dark. “Enough conversation about your relationship with my cousin, for one night, I think. Night, mate. Happy birthday for tomorrow.”

****

“Scorp! Wake up! Happy seventeenth!” Al yanks the covers back from over my head, the light floods in and shocks my retinas, and I register some other people filling the dorm up, too.

“No,” I mumble, pushing my face back into the pillow. “Let me sleep for five more minutes.”

“Merlin, Scorp! Anyone would think it’s your birthday, or something! Come on, even Al got up early, for this, and we know what he’s like.” I can almost hear Dom’s eyes roll, and not even a second later, she’s pulled the entire duvet off of me, exposing my body to the rush of cool air.

“Good job you boys sleep in pyjamas.” Rose’s voice quips from somewhere to my left.

“Don’t lie,” I hear Fred, a grin hidden in his words somewhere, “You know you’d have loved a cheeky look at that package.” He nudges her.

“Too. Early.” Thea grumbles, while there’s a simultaneous echo of ‘ughs’ and ‘ewws’.

“Okay, okay,” I give in. “I’m getting up.” And I sit up in bed, to fully see the lot of them, crammed into my room, at this ungodly hour. My eyes linger on Rose, clutching a neat, bright, breakfast tray. Our eyes meet, and she smiles, and worms her way over to me, putting it down on my lap, on top of the crumpled duvet. She leans forward, her curls almost touching the toast, and kisses me. It’s a short one, no tongue (probably due to our audience), and whispers, “Happy Birthday, baby.”

“Can I wake up to this every day, please?” I murmur back, clutching her hand.

“No cheese please,” Dom uses her ‘disgusted’ tone, but she’s half-laughing. “It’s only quarter past eight.”

“It’s my birthday, I can do what I want,” I stick my tongue out at her, and tuck into the buttery toast.

“We have your presents, too!” Dax begins to haul gifts out of a bag, and tosses the shiny wrapped parcels onto my bed.

“There’s loads!” I exclaim, my mouth full of toast. “Shall I save them till tonight?”

“Yes,” Rose says firmly. “We want to see you open them.”

“We’d best get to class,” Thea looks at her watch, “Sadly it doesn’t stop just because you’ve turned seventeen, Scorpius.”

“I know, how rude of them.”

“I’ll get McGonagall on it.” Fred chips in, as they start to file out of the dorm, chorusing ‘Happy Birthday, Scorp’. Until only Rose is left. She sits down on my bed, and I make to speak, covering my mouth with my hand and chewing furiously. I want to tell her that I love her being here, that she’s made my birthday, that no matter how the rest of today goes, that it’s already going to be the best one yet – but she cuts me off.

“Shush, you need to eat! Otherwise we really will be late. And also,” she looks down at the covers, fingering the plaid pattern almost nervously. “There’s something I want to say. I think I’ve known it for a while, but I was scared. And what I’ve got you for your birthday isn’t really amazing, or anything, so I thought this could maybe be my gift to you. So, yeah. I want to say,” she breathes in deeply, and looks up, meeting my gaze again, her eyes fierce, “That I love you, Scorpius. You’re the best thing that’s happened to me. Even when we’re not doing anything out of the ordinary, even just sitting with you and the others, I feel like - like I’ve got everything I wanted. So… well, that’s it, really.” I don’t say anything for a long second. I think I've forgotten to chew, and I do so hurriedly, then cough, in my haste to be able to speak to her.

She must mistake this for shock, or a bad reaction, though, because she pulls back from me, and starts to blurt out words again. “Is it too early? I thought it might be. Just forget that I said it, then, I mean I wasn’t really-“

“ _Rose.”_ I put my arms around her, pushing the tray to one side. “I love you, too. Like crazy, mad, don’t-you-ever-leave-me-type love. And if you hadn’t said it, today, I think I’d barely have been able to wait any longer.”

She kisses me then, delighted, furious, excited, all at once. We’re laughing, and I squeeze her tight, leaning back against the bed head. “This is a pretty unbeatable birthday present, you do know that?”

“Well, I do try,” she rolls her eyes.

****

The evening doesn’t quite beat my breakfast in bed scene with Rose this morning, but for a small celebration it certainly does its best. My mates, like the ballers they are, have decked out the _whole_ of the Room in Slytherin colours, with ‘S-C-O-R-P-I-U-S’ spelled out at every available opportunity. There are also balloons with my face on dotted about, but I try not to dwell on that too much.

“You see,” Dom explains rather moodily when I arrive (last, of course) “We were all prepared to host you a big sesh, but…”

“Oh, leave him alone,” Rose hooks her arm through mine, and frowns at Dom, “It’s-“

“- _his birthday._ ” About five of the others finish her sentence, and I laugh. “Guessing it’s been a long afternoon, then?” I direct this at Al, who’s pouring us some shots.

“You could say that.” He replies darkly, screwing the top on the Firewhiskey.

“You should open your presents, Scorp!” Thea exclaims, from where she’s stood, putting the final banner up with a wave of her wand.

“Yeah,” Dax agrees, his tone a little grumpy. “We did cart them all the way up to your room only to haul them all back here again.” He nods at the sack in the middle of the room.

“Okay,” I say easily, and am surprised to find that I’m excited again, like a little kid. I sit on the floor, and Rose curls next to me, her back leaning against my side. I choose the first one out of the pile – Mum and Dad’s. The others eventually settle themselves round in a sort of circle, and Al comes over last, armed with shots which he hands out to us. Once we’ve downed the first bit of tonight’s alcohol, I tear off the wrapping from my gift. As long as it’s not another bloody key to anything…

“A watch!” I exclaim, and I’m actually genuinely pleased. It’s gold chain, with a grey marble face, and miniature gold Roman numerals instead of numbers. I slip it carefully over my hand, and it adjusts itself to fit my wrist without even the tap of a wand. “How cool is that?” I tilt my arm to show the others.

“Is it plated with unicorn blood, or something?” Fred squints at it. I turn to Al, and raise an eyebrow.

“Sorry,” he says sheepishly, holding his hands up. “I _did_ tell them about the flat thing.”

I frown, but it’s only a fake one. “I’ll let you off, this once, because in actual fact it is sort of funny…”

“It’s like, very funny, when you see that side of it,” Fred shrugs. “Come on then, next!”

“Okay,” Dom says, and hands me the biggest, wrapped in navy blue cellophane. “This is ours. We kinda were stuck for ideas, because really who has a birthday this close to Christmas? So we sort of built on-“

“Dom!” Thea cuts her off, clapping a hand smartly over her mouth. “Let the poor guy open it.” So I do.

“This is the same voucher you gave me for Christmas! The one for me and Rose to have a meal, although that was before you ever thought we’d get together…” I turn the little card over in my hands, having discarded the copious amounts of tissue paper someone (Dom) had added to bulk it up.

“Well, not _exactly.”_ Rose corrects me. “We also got you some new dressrobes you can wear out with me, and a nice bottle of cologne you can put on before we go-“

“Rose!” Thea objects.

“Sorry! I thought it was better than him thinking we’d got a rubbish present. And…” she carries on, “I’ve got you something just from me, too.”

“Well, I’m really happy with this,” I say quickly, as she grabs the next present. “I didn’t expect anything big, actually. And I’m buzzing for our date, you guys have made sure it’s gonna be great.”

“You’re welcome.” Dom says happily.

“So, my gift.” Rose pushes a round silver present into my lap. I squash it a little, and it resists, hard – like rubber. It’s about the size of a small dinner plate, and slightly oval. I peel off the paper, and Rose bounces up and down next to me in excitement.

“A Quaffle?” I hold the maroon ball up to the light. “You got me a… Quaffle?”

“Look at it closely!” She persists, leaning close to me.

“Oh Merlin... No _way._ You didn’t. It’s _signed?!_ Rose!!” I grip it tightly, reading and re-reading the signature. “By Gidgeon Graithwell! He’s my absolute _hero!_ How did you know? He’s the best Chaser ever to walk the planet, how did you…?”

“Well, the others helped a bit, too.” She grins, her cheeks pink. “Especially Al. Aunt Ginny pulled in a couple favours.”

“This is amazing! Not a good present, my ass! I love it!” I throw my arms, Quaffle and all, round Rose in a big hug. “Thanks, all of you.” I say, over her shoulder. “This is a _sick_ birthday.”

“Not yet, it’s not,” Fred stands up, rolls up his sleeves. “Someone turn up the tunes, let’s get this actual party started."

Al gets up too, as Fred's music fills the air - he offers me and Rose a hand each, and he yanks us up, as well. “ You thought this was good, well, it’s about to get a _whole_ lot better now.” He smirks.

And that’s exactly what I hope for, too.


	23. The Date 2.0

“Come on, Scorp! We want to get a picture of you two, and we don’t got all day! There’s Quidditch practice for some, you know!” Oh Dom, how would I live without you?

I push a hand through my hair, give a last glance in the mirror, and then hurry down out of the dorm. It should probably faze me that there are at least four non-Slytherins gathered at the foot of the boys’ dorm staircase right now – but I think we passed that point back in second year, when James and about ten of his mates appeared in the gap between our beds. Fun memory, that. It would also be nice to say that I’m late for this date because I spent an hour showering and dressing nicely to please Rose – but let’s be honest, I’m not dating Aria anymore. Al and I were playing Quidditch outside, and I forgot. Result: I had to sprint across the grounds and have the quickest shower known to wizardkind to avoid missing it altogether.

“Ah Scorp, aren’t you cute!” Dom, brandishing the camera, attacks my hair with her hand, ruffling it and then patting me on the head. Rose, stood behind her, rolls her eyes and laughs with me. Fred has come to see us off too, but he’s currently holding court with Damaris over at the table, and they’re looking intently into each other’s eyes, and ignoring the rest of the common room. Al follows my eyeline and shakes his head.

“It’s not gonna last.” He stands up from where he’s been sat on the bottom stair, and jerks his thumb over his shoulder at the two of them.

Dom peers out from behind the lens of her camera to look at them. “Nope.” She says flippantly, “They’re talking about Quidditch _already._ I mean, that’s the recipe for a bad relationship if I ever saw one.”

“Where’s Thea?” Rose asks, as she comes to stand next to me for Dom’s bloody picture. “Swear she was here just a minute ago…”

“She went to find Tess.” Al explains. “Apparently Marie has a problem, and she needed her help?”

“Ooh, check you with all the goss,” Dom teases, motioning Rose to move further to the left. “I didn’t know about our little dorm-mate’s drama, did you, Rose?”

“No,” Rose shakes her head. “But to be fair, if I was Tess, I’d go to Thea, too. She’s the calm one.”

“Yeah.” Al agrees, and is it just me that thinks he looks a little distracted?

“ _Anyway,”_ Dom pulls Al back out of the way of picture. “Smile, you two! Scorp, look happier than that! This is your first proper date!”

I grin at the camera, and it flashes, blinding us both. I squeeze Rose with the arm that’s round her waist. “You look really pretty.” I say. “Shall we get out of here?”

“Yes, please.” She smiles, and takes my hand in hers.

****

I pull out Rose’s chair for her, in a true gentlemanly fashion. The waitress that brought us to our table points her wand rather lazily at the candle in the middle, and a flame springs up on it. I sit down, too, and am handed a gold-edged menu.

“It’s nice in here, isn’t it?” Rose looks round appreciatively once our waitress has left. “They did _good_.” And she’s right. The restaurant has a sort of old-age theme to it, with high wooden ceilings and thin long windows currently showing the amber sunset. There are diamond chandeliers hovering above us, throwing chinks of gold light on the other customers dotted around the restaurant.

“Yeah, who would’ve thought it?” I agree.  “Actually, I take it back - Dom _was_ involved, so it’s lucky we aren’t dining with the Minister of Magic…” I trail off, as I realise that’s-

“My mum?” Rose finishes my thought, and bursts out laughing. “Yep, you still have that to look forward to, Scorp – not only the meet the parents thing, but my mum also just happens to be probably the most important witch in the country…” she smirks at me.

“No, don’t!” I object, and pull the menu over my face in mock-horror. “You’re giving me palpitations,” I peek over the top of it at her.

“She’s not that scary, honest,” Rose grins. “It’s my dad you need to worry about, he’s not a fan of people dating his darling _only_ daughter.”

“I can imagine,” I say, “I mean, she is pretty amazing.”

“Yeah, and I’m sure she’d only date someone equally so,” Rose nods, “Not sure who _that_ would be.”

“So, this is serious then?” I ask, leaning forward and resting my elbows on the table. “Like, meet the parents, serious?”

Rose sucks her teeth, then frowns. “Hmm,” she says slowly, “I’m not _sure_. Once you’re introduced to my family, there really isn’t any going back. They’ll be planning our wedding the week after meeting you, you do realise that?”

I retract my folded hands from the marble table top. “So, you’re not sure then?”

“Scorpius, I was _joking!”_ She grins, and reaches for my hands. “Course I’m serious about this, and of course I want you to meet my mum and dad.”

“Oh, good,” I say, relieved, as the waitress comes over to take our orders. “Because I’d really been looking forward to this food - it’d be a shame if we had to leave before we’d eaten.”

Rose giggles.

When our meals do arrive, they’re just as fancy as the place itself. For starters, even the plates have tiny gold ‘ _Rosie’s’_ engraved on them, and we’re served with about six sets of cutlery for all the different courses. I chose the griddled squid for mains, and Rose has ordered a sort of savoury strudel. Don’t ask. I’m awfully glad I didn’t take her here on a first date that I’d been paying for, because I don’t reckon there’d be anything apart from dust left in my Gringott’s vault afterwards.

“So…” She smirks as I stab my last squid tentacle. “When do you want to… come over?” And she puts such an emphasis on the last three syllables that I almost spit it out again.

“Not like that!” She laughs, watching my face grow redder as I cough. She pushes her curls back a little defiantly. “No, I mean in the totally innocent way, when are we next off school?”

“Well, there’s Easter, that’s mid-April?” I suggest, neatly clearing up any squid remains with my napkin as I calm down again. “Or if you’re busy then, I think the next one must be summer, so end of June…”

“I’m not busy at Easter…” Her expression is hard to read. “Are you?”

“Nope. Well, I mean, my mum will probably have a nervous breakdown if she doesn’t clap eyes on me at least _once,_ but, aside from that, I’m definitely up for staying at yours.”

“Who says I was offering you to stay at mine?” She raises her eyebrows.

“Don’t give me that!” I object. “I’m wise to your game now, and you were _definitely_ offering.”

“Okay, okay. So, how about you come for the last two days of the holidays, and then we can go to Kings’ Cross together? My dad always gets Ministry cars to take us, and you could have your trunk flown over before we go.”

“Sure.” I say easily. “I’ll owl Mum when we’re back, and check with her. What about your family? Do you have people over a lot?”

“Well, half our mates are my family anyway, so they’re always there,” she rolls her eyes. “But I’ve had Tess, Thea, and Dom to sleep a few times, and when I was dating Gregory he came once for a day trip…” I hear what she’s not saying, too, that I’d be the first guy she’s had to stay over.

“And then I think when I was with Riley Matthews in about fourth year, they said I could have him over but I never did, and yeah, that’s about it. Hugo, though, he’s always having people round! I swear he’s actually more popular than I am, even though he’s only in second year.”

“See… I’m the opposite. I don’t think I’ve ever even had Al round.” I admit, and it crosses my mind how easy it is talking to Rose – how no matter how much of a class mate Al is, it doesn’t really compare to the way I want to tell this girl everything. “It’s bad – I know,” I say, in response to the look on her face. “It’s not that I’m embarrassed of my parents – or of Al – but it’s just that it’s kinda awkward, you know. And my dad can be not the nicest, if he doesn’t click with somebody. The son of his nemesis definitely falls under that heading.” I shake my head, exasperated. “So, yeah. If we can avoid that, I wanted to.”

“What about me?” Rose asks, but it isn’t in a small or subdued way. Instead, she challenges me, leaning forward, and looking me directly in the eye. “Don’t my parents fall under the heading of people he doesn’t click with? They’re almost equally as bad as Uncle Harry.”

“…I’ve not told them yet.” I whisper, suddenly finding the chandelier above us completely riveting.

“Oh, _Scorpius!_ What are you like?” She laughs, and I flick my gaze back to her face.

“You’re not annoyed?”

“Am I Aria? No. Tell them whenever you’re ready. But preferably before I come to stay at yours.” Her chuckle seems to bridge the gap between us, and the air feels a little lighter.

“I’ll do it soon, promise. Before Easter. My mum will definitely be buzzing.” I reassure her.

“Good to hear. And on that note, do you think we should get back? Our _surrogate_ family will be wondering where we’ve got to.”

“Sure,” I say, and walk round to help her with her coat. “Merlin, we’ve been here almost three hours!” I exclaim, catching sight of Rose’s watch.

“Time flies…” Rose starts, smirking, but she doesn’t finish, because I kiss her, firmly, on the lips, before she can get any further. “This has been the most amazing first date,” I murmur, close to her ear. “Thank you.”

And she tucks her hand into the crook of my arm, and we head off back into the night together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a short one! I felt the first date needed to have a whole chapter of its own though :) let me know what you thought! - L


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